


streaming live

by callmegack



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Autistic Ushijima Wakatoshi, Chatting & Messaging, Exhibitionism, Fantasizing, First Meetings, Hand & Finger Kink, Kinda?, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Pro Volleyball Player Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sex Toys, Texting, Video Cameras, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, camboy, i'll tag stuff as i go, it'll probably pop up later, oop lmao, yeah that's where we are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25388404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmegack/pseuds/callmegack
Summary: ushijima starts watching camboy "Satoshi"other things happen(proper summary coming soon; basically: shameless camboy au ft tendou as such)
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 122
Kudos: 763





	1. first time viewer

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written porn before, tbh i've barely written kissing scenes bc idk, but here we go.
> 
> constructive criticism especially about the sex scenes bc again,,,, never wrote it before. i'm doing my best here. let me know if phrasing is weird or clunky or just straight up awkward. god knows i can't have someone beta this.
> 
> anywho i wrote this the day before the final chapter came out, so yesterday, but fuck the ending was good, still emotional.

Wakatoshi is not nearly as dense as everyone believes. He is dense, yes, but not a fucking child. Not everything not-volleyball related goes over his head. His team makes fun of him endlessly. They take his usual silence to innuendos as naivety. Most of the time, it doesn’t bother him. He hates getting treated like a child, though. He’s an adult. He knows adult things- -even if the phrasing itself was childish. He went to a boarding high school. Some of his neighbors had absolutely no boundaries. Nothing actually happened. No one did anything, obviously, they were fucking high schoolers. It was just making jokes like they had sex every day. Nothing happened in high school. Hell, maybe it did happen to other people, but it didn’t happen to Wakatoshi.

Honestly, Wakatoshi didn’t think he was missing much. Wakatoshi has been pretty sure he’s gay since his last years in junior high. He got one or two confessions from girls that watched their feet as they spoke and barely glanced at him. He rejected them politely. He had that phase where he thought he just wanted to look like all the pro volleyball players. He realized what it actually was a few years later during serving practice. He had tossed the ball up and as he jumped to spike, he had the clear singular thought of “Hmm… I might be gay.” He didn’t try to experiment. It was just something he knew. He kept it to himself. Teenage boys are weird about being gay. He wasn’t ashamed of it. He wouldn’t hide it if he was asked, but he never was. Wakatoshi just didn’t want to deal with ridicule. He had his volleyball career to worry about.

Point of it all was, he wasn’t naive. He wasn’t the sexless creature that everyone treated him like. His team pestered him about his romantic life, he answered honestly that there wasn’t any to speak of. They pitied him, obviously and awkwardly. Then they didn’t ask again. It least it kept them out of his business.  
Life was pretty straight forward. Wakatoshi went to practice, went out for lunch, did afternoon practice, then went home. He went jogging in the park some times, enough that some of the older women who power-walk through the area smile at him when they pass. A few of the hosts at the cafe he usually gets tea and breakfast from know him. They smile and exchange pleasantries and sometimes they’ll have his order ready for him.

Wakatoshi’s apartment is small and well kept. He shared a dorm room with another guy for all of high school. He was well taught to either keep his side clean or keep the mess contained. He likes to think he does a good job. The apartment is three rooms—small living room with kitchen, bedroom, and a small bathroom with a bath-shower combo. He keeps his Nintendo Switch plugged in near the small TV that only got the local stations. There’s a small bookshelf of old sports medical books from his father, some photos, and old notebooks. The couch is from the thrift store but doesn’t groan under his weight.  
Wakatoshi spends most of his time in the living room, either watching TV, on his Switch, or dicking around on his laptop. His bedroom is mostly just for sleeping and his clothes.

When Wakatoshi walks in after another evening practice, he’s looking at the team’s group chat. Hinata and Bokuto were going off about something they saw in a trashy magazine. One of the sex-tips columns. The captain tells them to shut up. Wakatoshi watches it unfold as he toes off his shoes and hangs up his jacket. He pauses when he walks into his room, as Hinata gets yelled at by Kageyama in the chat about why he was looking at the magazine in the first place. Wakatoshi figures it’s been a while since he got off. He looks at the digital clock next to his bed.

Why not, he shrugs.

Wakatoshi unpacks his sports bag and silences his phone. He throws his clothes in the hamper and puts his phone on the charger, and tucks it away in one of end tables. He changes into loose old clothing that was nearly worn out on every seam. He eats leftovers for dinner and glimpses at the news station while he does so. Dishes get washed, and put on a rack to dry. He gathers up his laptop and headphones and heads to his bedroom again.

Wakatoshi powers up the laptop and digs a bottle of lube out from the bottom drawer of the end table. There was also an old box of condoms his roommate had given him after graduation, with a mocking grin. Wakatoshi mostly forgets it’s there. They’re definitely expired by now. He should probably throw them out for cleanliness’ sake.

He opens up the incognito tab and types in “porn.”

Wakatoshi doesn’t think porn is particularly erotic. He plugs his headphones in and pulls them over his ears. He usually just browses until something strikes him. He goes through the major sites, the ones where people make jokes in the video’s comments. Most of the videos are over produced or very sketchy. It’s why he doesn’t jerk off very often. It takes too long to find anything interesting.

The sites obnoxiously advertise their “live” stars. Wakatoshi frowns and mentally shrugs again. At least then he can mostly assume everything is consented to. He goes to one of the sites that’s somewhat better and follows the link. It takes him a while to find the gay filters. All the while, he watches women wriggle, scantily clad, in the preview boxes in his periphery. He doesn’t check any boxes for the filters outside of gay. He didn’t know what he wanted to watch.

It wasn’t like he had much in the way of preferences. Probably because he’s never bothered looking into it. He guessed he likes tall men, like himself, and like most of the people he plays with and against.

  
Wakatoshi wonders if he really wants to jerk off or if he has just been bored. Some sort of pseudo pressure from the topic that the group chat was on. He’s done it because he’s bored before.

  
Wakatoshi picks a random preview and scrolls through. A scrawny looking white man in pastel colors. No reaction from Wakatoshi. A broader man with dark hair across his chest. Also no reaction. Wakatoshi keeps scrolling until something catches his eye. There’s a cute guy in a skirt and crop top, posing for the camera with a mask on. Wakatoshi stops for a moment, only long enough to see someone in the chat call them baby girl. Not something he wanted, Wakatoshi thinks. Not today, at least. There’s a long series of pale men either stroking or fingering themselves with a shitty camera.

The searching process probably takes longer than the actual masturbation would. Wakatoshi keeps scrolling. Why not continue, at this point. He’s already so far down the metaphorical rabbit hole.

Speaking of, there’s a plus sized man in a cheap looking bunny costume. His moans leak into Wakatoshi’s headphones. High pitched and whiny. Wakatoshi keeps scrolling. Not today, at least.

A few other people almost catch his attention fully. A buff dark skinned man working out with a camera focused perfectly on his groin. A duo, one nearly seven feet tall, and the other couldn’t have been taller than five foot five inches. Wakatoshi thinks that much of a height difference has to be uncomfortable. To each their own, though.

Wakatoshi again wonders if he actually wants to get off. There’s a little bit going on his sweatpants but nothing he couldn’t ignore.

The next cam-boy’s screen is just red. Wakatoshi finds himself pausing there, curious enough. The chat is neither fast nor slow. Some of the users greet each other. A few demand to know where the ass was.

Wakatoshi rolls his eyes and almost continues scrolling.

“Sorry, sorry!” a voice laughs from the feed. It’s not a seductive laugh, or chuckle, it’s… just a laugh. A cackling that scrapes in an odd way. “Sorry I’m late, I had to kick my roommate out!”

The red screen changes to a blur. The man that moves back from the camera holds a red piece of construction paper. He sits on the bed the camera is pointed at as the lens focuses. The man’s hair is just as red as the paper, a bright cherry red pressed all the way to the roots.

Wakatoshi doesn’t know much about hair dye, but he knows that it hurts close to the scalp.

The man’s face is curled in a grin as he tosses the paper off to the side. His eyes are round and seem large in his skull. They rest half lidded as he watches the chat scroll by. No eye mask or face mask like most of the other people Wakatoshi glanced at in his scrolling. He has on a large hoodie that’s threadbare around the hems, with a league volleyball team’s name on the chest.  
Wakatoshi recognizes it. They had placed pretty high last season. A good contender for the top team in the league this season. Wakatoshi would be a liar if he said it wasn’t the volleyball hoodie that made him stay on the page a bit longer.

“Hm~? My roommate? No he’s a bitch,” the man says, leaning forward to look closer at a question asked by the chat. “And insufferably straight. But he knows exactly what I do. It’s hilarious to see how embarrassed he gets.”

Wakatoshi looks at the chat as the man answers some of the questions that fly by.

“Invite him? Pfft, funny yeah, but I don’t need to see his dick any more than I already do,” the man laughs. His grin is broad and makes his eyes wrinkle at the corners. It’s cute, Wakatoshi thinks. There’s a dimple on his right cheek. “We share a bathroom. Hangovers are fun.”

The man rolls his eyes and gives a few coy answers to the people whining that he was taking forever to get started. He wriggles his eyebrows ridiculously at the lewd remarks he gets. Wakatoshi sits and watches, caught up in the mischief written all over the man’s face. The corners of his eyes, the curl of his lips, and the messy waves of his red-red hair.

“You want something to happen, sixtea?” the man asks, leaning back from the camera. He rests himself on his palms.

The hoodie’s bottom hem pulls up along his thighs. He bend one leg up and the hoodie hem falls even closer to where his thighs meet his hips. Wakatoshi feels a spark in his gut and shifts where he sits. The man lifts one hand to push his hair back, but strands still fall in his face. He’s not wearing shorts under the hoodie, Wakatoshi realizes belatedly. His legs are long and faintly toned. He must be tall, close to Wakatoshi’s own height. Maybe a past athlete. There is still strength in his thighs that Wakatoshi knows well. Years of receives and jumping.

Wakatoshi wonders if he should ask if the man had played volleyball himself. He figures that… no, it would be weird.

The man snaps him out of his thoughts by cackling again and crossing his legs—criss-cross, like he’s sitting on the floor. It reminds Wakatoshi of high school practices, sitting and waiting for coach to finish his talk.

“If you want something to happen, then I’ll need tips,” the man says. “Regulars know the rules. When it gets high enough, we’ll get the party started.”

He wiggles his shoulders ridiculously.

Wakatoshi looks at the chat as chimes ring in his ears.

_**User1094343 tipped 100!** _  
_**sixteanein tipped 20!** _  
_**notfurry tipped 50!** _

The tips continued to come in for almost a minute. Wakatoshi watches the man on screen grin again and teasingly adjusts the hoodie even further up his thighs. He finds himself wanting to contribute himself. It’s a fleeting feeling. The thought lingers.

“Eager, huh?” the man says as the donations slow down. He sighs and rolls his head around on his neck. “Eh, it is Friday, I guess.”

The man stands up. The camera only shows him from the collar down like this. He lifts the hoodie’s edge again, higher and higher. He turns to the side to lift it even higher to his hip bone without showing off his dick. He laughs again as the chat explodes with begging and whining. A few more big tips. Wakatoshi finds himself watching the man closely as he turns around. There’s a small scar on the side of his knee.  
He takes the hoodie off, a slow drag as it creeps up his thighs and his backside starts to peek out. The man pauses there before yanking the hoodie off at a normal pace. His ass isn’t small or big, or round and excessively pert like some of the others Wakatoshi passed in his scrolling. There are two dimples at the base of his spine. A few freckles dot his skin.

Another burst of tips in the chat. The man hums a tune that’s light hearted and almost teasing. He sways back and forth in front of the camera, letting viewers get their eye-fulls. Wakatoshi looks over his thighs, imagines the feeling of the muscles tensing and shifting under his hand. He shifts his hips. The man leans forward onto the bed, arching his back a little to tip his head into frame again. He turns slightly to look at the chat while keeping his ass the center of attention. He mumble-reads one of the messages and hums again. He reaches back to slide his hand over one of his cheeks, down to his thigh, and then back up. He grabs his cheek tight and gropes himself casually.

Wakatoshi stares at his hands. Big palms, long fingers, bony joints and sharp angles.

Wakatoshi’s face feels warm and he shifts again. He tugs down the waist of his pants a bit, feels his dick brush the fabric and flinches. He sighs and lays back against his pillows. He places the laptop on his thighs. He settles in. He hopes the man on cam doesn’t do anything too kinky. Wakatoshi still doesn’t know how to feel about anything like that. Hell it took him forever to find something that actually caught his attention. He purposefully ignores that it was mostly the volleyball hoodie.

The man half lays down on the bed. Tip chimes ring pretty consistently at this point, not constant, but in small bursts. The man continues to read chat in the corner of the screen, rolling onto his side. His legs splay out messily and he pushes his hair out of his face again.

“I don’t think butts have sizes, x-anime,” the man drawls. “Not like tits. But…” The man slaps his own ass and the slap cracks in the air. Wakatoshi’s gut tightens. “Whatcha say? B-Cup? Maybe? Like a cup and a half of ass.”

Wakatoshi looks back to the man’s face, still grinning as he twirls his hair around his long fingers. Wakatoshi watches it closely. He pauses. Fuck, does he have a hand kink?

“I’ll be honest,” the man says. He sighs and rolls fully onto his back. His dick is half hard against his thigh as he sprawls out. It’s nestled in a tamed mess of dark pubes. “I don’t have a plan for tonight. It was a messy day. Dealt with douches all day, and now I just wanna fuck someone.”

The chat lights up in offers. A few give names and phone numbers, some do so with high tips. Wakatoshi feels himself blush at the blunt statement. He rubs a hand over his face and sighs briefly. He sat here for a reason, goddammit, he’s not going to get embarrassed because a guy said he wanted sex.

“Aw, you’re all so sweet,” the man giggles. “I’m flattered. Almost tempted to take someone up on it.” He sighs wistfully and releases his hair where he was playing with it. He flops his hand on the bed next to him. “It’s been a while.”

Wakatoshi refuses to believe that. The red head could probably charm anyone.

As the man palms himself, Wakatoshi follows the example. The man hums with every few breaths as he works himself to hardness. Tips slow down as Wakatoshi assumes the other viewers also follow the lead.

“Tell you what,” the man huffs. He shifts on the bed until he’s laying horizontal, perpendicular to the camera so his torso and crotch are all on display. “I’ll let you pick. Fleshlight or dildo. I don’t care either way and I don’t wanna decide.”

The man leans forward and types something. A poll pops up in the chat with the two mentioned options. Wakatoshi blinks as he’s presented the choice. People begin voting and the counter goes up and down accordingly. The man lays back again. He trails his fingers up and down the side of his shaft.

Wakatoshi adjusts himself in his pants and thinks about it.

Like everything else, position preference is also something Wakatoshi never considered. He tried fingering himself once or twice but never got past one. He looks at the man on the screen again. He leans further into his pillows and tugs his sweatpants a bit further down. It makes an unpleasant bulge against the fabric but the friction sends sparks through his gut.  
The red head rolls to show his ass again as the poll continues. He grabs his butt cheek again and tugs it to the side. He bends that leg to show the camera his asshole. His other hand comes around to press against his rim.

Wakatoshi lets go of a held breath and moves the laptop off his legs. He sets it on the bed in front of him. He struggles to pull his pants down without standing but he gets them down around his knees. His dick flops out against his thigh. Wakatoshi spreads his legs and slides his left hand over the crease between his thigh and groin. His face is hot. He slides his hand further to cup his balls, heavy against his fingers and sending pleasure through his stomach.

The poll says there’s only ten seconds left of voting. Wakatoshi doesn’t vote, just watches the numbers as the man sits up to see the results. There’s another chime as the time runs out.

_**59% fleshlight** _  
_**41% dildo** _

The man hums the song again as he bounces up from the bed. He strides off camera briefly before returning with the toy and a bottle of lube. The fleshlight is clear, showing the texture of the inner tube. The red head holds it up for the camera as he sits back and spreads his legs. His dick is flushed and rests along his thigh. He squeezes a few dollops of lube out onto his fingers. He idly warms it before sliding a few fingers into the toy. Wakatoshi’s hand drags up to the base of his cock and he rests it there despite the urge to keep going.

“Ah,” the red head sighs pleasantly. He giggles. He slowly draws his fingers out. “I think I’ve had this since I got my own bank out. Old faithful.”

Wakatoshi purses his lips and stares as the red head pours more lube onto his hand. He warms it again, smile ever present. His eyes look off to the side at the chat again. Wakatoshi hurries to get lube on his own palm. He doesn’t look away from the screen more than he has to.

The red head wraps his hand around the base of his shaft and strokes up, suffocatingly slow. He laughs breathily, half of a moan slipping in as he shivers. Wakatoshi watches and wraps his hand around his own dick. It’s cold, and his winces, but the red head continues the snail-pace strokes on the screen.

“Mm… hmm--” the red head hums his moan out as he holds his cock up and presses the entrance of the fleshlight to the flushed head. “Ahh, fair warning to you all. I might not last long. Like I said, it’s been a while. And a hell of a fucking week.” He enters the fleshlight just as slow as he stroked moments prior. Wakatoshi breathes in deeply through his nose as he watches close. He sighs it out quietly and begins stroking himself at his own pace. The red head tosses his head back as the fleshlight reaches his base. He lets out a half stifled moan that makes Wakatoshi inhale sharply. “Fuck, that’s good. What I wouldn’t give to have this for real.”

Wakatoshi can’t help but see an image of himself getting fucked by the red head. He assumes that’s the whole point of this sort of thing. It strikes firm in his gut, sparks up his spine, and his dick throbs. Thin strong thighs pressed against him. Red hair falling around near his face. The man had to be close to his height. It would make it easier and all the much more satisfying to be eye-to-eye. With the man’s long fingers curled in Wakatoshi’s short hair or rubbing along his own thighs, tracing the stretchmarks near his groin. The giggled half-moans as the red head drags himself in and out slow and torturous but near euphoric.

The man lays back, propped up on his elbow. He picks up the pace as he switches positions. He lifts a leg to rest his foot on the edge of the mattress, tucked close to his ass. He hums through a groan as he presses the fleshlight down hard to the base again. He breathes a sigh. There’s a small pause as he settles himself. Then, the man looks right into the camera and grins, sharp and dangerous. His eyes are red, too. Wakatoshi presses a thumb against his slit and inhales shakily. The man throws his head back again and starts again.

Wakatoshi feels unable to look away as the man thrusts up into the toy, letting moans and all the sweet noises slip out freely. It’s intoxicating to hear and Wakatoshi pushes into his own hand.

Wakatoshi loses himself in the small fantasy of being held by the red head, his hands wrapped carefully around Wakatoshi’s hips while he fucks up into the player. Light, teasing words, and content smile. Soft moans broken apart by giggles and the laughter that scrapes ever so slightly. Or the other way around. The red head sitting on his lap and grinding in circles. Wakatoshi feels the knot in his gut getting tighter. His eyebrows furrow and gnaws at his bottom lip. His thighs tense up and shake with anticipation.

The red head breathes heavier, fucking deep into the toy desperately. It’s addicting to watch. The flush burns on his face and spreads down his chest and thighs. It’s a beautiful sight to see. The chat chimes with tips. Messages go by fast, mostly single words and filthy phrases. The man doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Oh-ohh fuck,” the red head whines. The thrusts get uneven. His hand holding the toy shakes and falters its pace. “Oh fuck, fuck, shit.”

Wakatoshi finds himself slowing to watch as the man moans and curses, spine arched and body tense. The red head speeds up frantically. He whines and his jaw clenches. His free hand claws the blanket under him and his foot on the floor kicks out. Wakatoshi curses himself and jacks himself quickly. The red head goes even tenser. One, two, three, four deep fucks into the toy then the man stills. His voice cracks as he cums and he giggles through it. Wakatoshi can see the substance splattered along the inside of toy.

The man drags the toy up and off him. His dick flops down. A string of cum connects the tip to the entrance. It breaks unceremoniously but Wakatoshi watches it with bated breath. More leaks out of the toy.

The man giggles again, half hysterical as he flops back onto the bed and splays himself out to simmer in the afterglow.

“Gross,” he laughs. “Shoulda used a condom, eh?”

Wakatoshi jacks himself hard and fast and replays the orgasm. It plays over the fantasy of long fingers wrapped up in his hair and gripping at his ass. The tension in his gut tightens and snaps. He barely gets a tissue there to catch it. Wakatoshi grunts and breathes heavily as the aftershocks roll through him. He blearily watches the screen as his whole body relaxes.

The man sits up and leans towards the camera again. He’s replying to chat messages, questions, and laughing at their comments. The flush on his face is mesmerizing. Wakatoshi stares wistfully as the man wraps up the stream.

The man sighs, loud and with an air of finality.

“Shame to wrap it up so soon this time, but, like I said. Hell of a week,” the man says. He looks at something off screen briefly before turning back. “Streams will be around this time every week. A change for the old regulars, sorry, but schedule issues, y’know?” He arches his back in a stretch and yawns out of it. He criss-crosses his legs again. He continues with a rehearsed spiel. “Thank you all for watching, especially those who tipped. My name here is RedMonster, no it’s not an innuendo, but you can call me Satoshi. And you can follow me on this site to get notifications for when I’m live again or when I upload the rare video. Subscribe to get access to stream replays and more videos. So on, so forth, blah, blah, blah. New info is that I’ll be live every Friday now! Starting at eleven, going until I can’t or don’t want to.”

Wakatoshi watches the chat as people filter out. Some say goodbye, some promise to see the man again, a few give final tips before leaving.

“See you all then,” the man—Satoshi—sing-songs. He winks ridiculously at the camera and sticks his tongue out. The stream closes down.

Wakatoshi stares at the page still, as the chat closes and the viewing window displays the “not-live” message. He takes a few moments to steady his breath further. He wipes his palms on his sweatpants with a grimace. He hesitantly clicks on the profile link beneath the viewing window.

It takes him to the Satoshi’s page. Minimalist like the rest of the site with less than five videos uploaded. There’s a small bio page that says his online name, his pronouns, a silly winky emoji, and even a brief description of his type. Tall broad, could snap him like a twig. Wakatoshi snorts. He can’t help it. He had seen all too similar comments made on pictures of the volleyball team on social media. He doesn’t let the parallel get to his head.

Wakatoshi rolls his shoulders back and thinks about if he should make an account to follow the red head. It’s rare he finds someone, or an account, that holds his interest for the full time. He’d lost all the ones he had found before.

Why not, he figures.

The website asks for email. Wakatoshi puts in his personal one and fills out the other fields. He pauses on the username, before putting in “miracleboy.” It had been so long since anyone called him that, and it was better than some of the ones he had seen go by in the chat. He makes his account and follows the man’s page. He doesn’t bother with an avatar. He closes the site and shuts down his laptop.

He cleans up, changes clothes, then lays down. He sleeps feeling warm and sated. It’s utterly satisfying.


	2. viewer's fee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave it to me to get back into writing via porn

Hinata and Kageyama are still arguing about the article when Wakatoshi gets to practice. It’s dumb, Wakatoshi knows that when he hears something about a donut. The three of them and Bokuto were at the gym early because that was the way they liked it.

While Wakatoshi was warming up, Hinata came running at him. Wakatoshi pauses his stretch to look at the spiker.

“Ushiwaka!” Hinata shouts. Kageyama screams at Hinata from across the gym and sprint towards them. “Did you look at the article!?”

Ushijima frowns and shakes his head.

“Stop being weird, dumbass!” Kageyama says. Hinata ducks out of his attempted grab and moves closer to Wakatoshi.

“You didn’t? You have to! Bokuto refuses to pick a side!” Hinata whines. Bokuto perks up at his name and wanders over. “Kageyama thinks it’s stupid to even try the donut thing! But I think people should try what they want!”

“Why are you asking me?” Wakatoshi asks.

“Because Bokuto isn’t picking a side! Were you listening!?”

“Eh? You’re still on the donut thing?” Bokuto laughs.

“No we’re not!” Kageyama says at the same time Hinata says “Yes we are!”

Kageyama scowls and lunges for Hinata’s head again. Hinata doesn’t escape that one and he screeches. Wakatoshi winces at the volume as the two get in another shouting match. Bokuto laughs as they smack at each other.

Wakatoshi keeps doing his stretches and turns his head to Bokuto. Bokuto starts to do his stretches with him while he watches Hinata escape and make a break for it. Kageyama chases him, red faced.

“What is the donut thing?” Wakatoshi asks. “I didn’t look at it.”

“You didn’t?” Bokuto cocks his head to the side.

“No.”

“Ohh, uh, well, it was—um,” Bokuto starts. Blush creeps on his face and across his cheeks. He smiles nervously. It’s forced and awkward, embarrassed. “A sex thing.”

“I figured that. I meant specifics.”

“W-What?!”

“What?”

Bokuto stares at Wakatoshi like he sprouted an extra head. Wakatoshi frowns and drops his arms. Bokuto then looks anywhere but Wakatoshi’s face as he shrugs and rubs the back of his neck.

“… I thought you didn’t care about that kind of stuff,” Bokuto mumbles.

Wakatoshi blinks at him and sits to continue his warm ups.

“I don’t mean to be rude!” Bokuto says. “I just—You never talk about it, and never add in to the conversations, and um—yeah...” He fiddles with his fingers. He’s blushing worse then when Akaashi came to one of their games. That was an ordeal. He clears his throat. Hinata and Kageyama run back into the gym. “It was like… you put a donut on—on your dick.”

Wakatoshi falters. He pictures it and the picture is stupid. Bokuto seems to realize it as he clears his throat again and throws himself into his stretching. Wakatoshi pictures it again and can’t stop the chuckle that works itself out of his throat.

“Really?” Wakatoshi asks.

“Yeah and like the sexy part is your partner like...” Bokuto continues, encouraged by the laugh. “Eats it? It’s--” he chuckles “Hinata took it and ran. Won’t shut up about trying it. Kageyama hates it.”

Wakatoshi hums noncommittally and ducks his head into the stretch.

“It doesn’t sound hot,” he says. Bokuto bursts out laughing. He’s loud enough to get Hinata and Kageyama to look over at them. Wakatoshi hides his smile as Bokuto doubles over.

He doesn’t think about it again all of practice until Hinata brings it up to the rest of the team in the locker room. He wants a vote. Wakatoshi has never seen the captain leave faster than he did in that moment. He almost laughs when all the other teammates turn to criticizing Hinata for looking at the article in the first place.

The week passes without much other uproar. Wakatoshi jogs in the mornings, makes small chat with the hosts at the cafe. He’s pretty sure one of the guys is flirting with him. He awkwardly thanks him for the compliments and his usual order. The host isn’t bad looking. Light brown hair, a little messy, and terribly shy about hitting on Wakatoshi. Wakatoshi doesn’t like assuming people are interested, though. It was safer that way. No misunderstandings if you refuse to understand.

Wakatoshi tries jump floater serves in the free time of practice. It’s hard to adjust and he hasn’t gotten it by the time Thursday rolls around.

Friday comes and as Wakatoshi gets dressed for his jog, he’s thinking about the red head streamer. Fridays at eleven, he had said. It felt weird thinking of him with a name, even if he had given it to the viewers freely. It probably wasn’t his real name, Wakatoshi thinks. Who would use their real name on a cam site? An idiot. Satoshi didn’t seem like an idiot. Or maybe Wakatoshi is just projecting with what pieces of a personality he noticed last Friday. He tries to stop thinking about it, especially as he walks into practice. He doesn’t do very well. He should have asked if the guy plays or had played volleyball. An answer would have stopped him from wondering while practicing serves.

Bokuto is bouncy that day. He eagerly tells Hinata about how he and his boyfriend Akaashi were going to have a date night. Hinata gets excited with him and the two cheer together. Wakatoshi has met Akaashi. He is the opposite of Bokuto only on the surface. They’re more similar than they seem, Wakatoshi thinks.

There’s a meeting after evening practice. Wakatoshi checks the time too much. He’s not excited to watch another stream, not exactly. He didn’t pop a boner at any point while he was thinking about it throughout the day. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to get off later that night.

Wakatoshi focuses on the meeting pointedly. Something about how their gym was scheduled for construction. They were making plans with a local college to use their facilities for practice. They would be allowed to use their courts until their own was usable again. They would have to be respectful of the college team and anyone else that wanted to use the courts. Wakatoshi thought that went without saying. Courts would close late at night. Wakatoshi guesses that meant he’d have to go to the outdoor courts, or the public gym, to continue his serves as long as he likes. They’d be switching courts on Monday. All of them were supposed to arrive at their usual gym and they’d take a bus over.

They move to the locker room and clean up. Bokuto rushes out when he’s done, waving goodbye frantically. Kageyama and Hinata go back to the gym to continue practicing, something about getting it all in early. Wakatoshi considers joining them, but checks the clock and decides against it. He doesn’t shower in the locker room, instead packing his bag and heading out. It’s only around nine. Wakatoshi is all too anxious to get home. He grabs dinner at a food stand and stops by the cafe for something sweet.

The host he’s fairly sure is flirting with him is on shift. He seems surprised to see Wakatoshi walk in, and waves hesitantly. Wakatoshi nods and nibbles at his food while he waits in line. He hopes he doesn’t smell too terrible. He isn’t being gawked at, so he thinks not. The host is all shy smiles and pink cheeks as he wraps up Wakatoshi’s ordered pastry. Wakatoshi doesn’t think he’d be interested in the host. He prefers people in general be straight-forward. Fluttering eyelashes and small smiles without any words is very much not that.

Wakatoshi now knows why he’s thinking this way. Like Satoshi said himself, it had been a while. No one had caught his attention as of late. Maybe he needed to get out more. No, he definitely did, but he didn’t want to admit it. He knew he would have to. Maybe someone on the team would offer to go out to a bar after a game and he could test the waters. Going alone would be too awkward. Hinata would probably go with him if he asked, but he’d definitely be questioned. Maybe…

Wakatoshi takes an hour long shower when he gets home and spends the rest of the time until eleven pouring over recordings of plays their coach had mentioned.

It’s a few minutes from eleven when Wakatoshi opens his laptop and sets it up on his bed. He already has it open to the site. He silences his phone again and puts it in the drawer again. He puts the lube on the end table. He’s not sure he’s going to do anything tonight. Wakatoshi pulls up the site and logs himself in. He goes through the “following” tab to Satoshi’s account. The screen on display declares that Satoshi will be live soon, which obnoxious emojis photoshopped over the text.

Wakatoshi plugs his headphones in and looks over more play videos on his tablet. Some new synchro-attacks and a different kind of quick coach wanted him to learn. He replays them a few times, making mental notes of the beats he would need to hit in the execution. It’s a little disorientating having to picture the motions mirrored for his left hand. He should be used to it by now.

The video feed starts with the same red paper set in front of it. Wakatoshi glances at the chat to see his username pop up with the other people there promptly at eleven. He goes back to the videos and makes a few notes. Keeping balance would be difficult, especially with cross shots. Other than that, it was straight-forward. He could probably ask Sakusa for help with the wrist angle. There’s rustling from the stream.

Wakatoshi looks up as the paper is moved again and the camera focuses on Satoshi. He’s close to the camera, face and shoulders in view. He lets his hair down from a messy ponytail and begins tying it back again. He grins and watches the chat go by. He says quick hellos to the regulars that are greeting him. Wakatoshi wonders if he should do that, too. It’s only his second viewing. Were welcomes a third stream deal?

“I see some new names and no names,” Satoshi drawls. He leans his chin on his palm, leaning to look closer at the screens. It reflects blue on his face. “Welcome, welcome. Welcome to… spikeball, Creative-Username, miracleboy--”

Wakatoshi ignores the little flare up that burns when he hears his username. He watches the chat as two of the other welcomed accounts say hello. He frowns and goes back to his tablet. Satoshi lists a few more names.

Wakatoshi abandons the tablet around a half-hour later. Satoshi had stripped out of his clothes—just a t-shirt and basketball shorts. He pulled a box from under his bed and showed the camera the contents. Wakatoshi recognized the fleshlight from last friday and a few of the other shapes as dildos. He has absolutely no idea what most of the things were. He knows they’re sex toys, but he has no fucking idea how they would work. It’s a little intimidating.

Someone tips big to get the right to pick the toy for the evening. Satoshi winks mockingly at the promise of going longer than last time. Wakatoshi curls himself forward to watch the stream more closely as the tipper makes a decision. Satoshi is sitting back on his bed with the box between his legs. He strokes himself casually while he waits, loose and light. Wakatoshi taps his fingers to his lips and tracks the movement. Satoshi shivers and his thighs flex. He hums, high and uneven. Wakatoshi takes a careful breath and his hips twitch back. He can feel himself hardening against his thigh.

Satoshi abruptly stops. His hips twitch up and his dick bobs. He wipes his hands on the blankets next to him. He scoots forward to lean over the box and check the tipper’s request.

“Pink one, huh?” Satoshi says. He digs in the box and pulls out a pink dildo. Wakatoshi doesn’t have a point of reference and quickly grabs his tablet again. He opens an incognito tab and searches what the average dick size is. He looks at where Satoshi holds the dildo up, then back at the litany of articles that came up. He’s trying to guess but Satoshi continues speaking. “Six inches, pretty standard all around. But fun part is this--” Satoshi flips the dildo around to show a suction cup at the base. He frowns in thought. “Might have to move you guys so you can see better. Gimme a second.”

Satoshi hops off his bed and walks behind the camera. He sings unintelligibley as he moves things around out of sight. Wakatoshi closes the tab on his tablet and stashes it in the drawer with his phone. He turns back in time for Satoshi to move the camera.

When the camera gets placed again, it’s pointing at a wall directly next to the bed. There’s a few wires curling around on the left side near the bed. The floors are dark hardwood. Satoshi’s legs are the only thing in frame while he drops the dildo and a bottle of lube onto the floor in front of the camera. Satoshi sits down carefully. He picks up the dildo, waving it teasingly at the camera, before he shifts to kneel center screen. He reaches behind him and sticks the toy to the floor between his legs.

“Everyone see me okay?” Satoshi asks.

The chat erupts in praise and demands to get it on with. Satoshi giggles and spreads his legs while still kneeling, so the camera could see the fake cock standing up between his thighs. He picks up the lube and spreads it over his fingers.

“I might have done some prep work already,” Satoshi says, dragging vowels out in a teasing lilt. Wakatoshi knows what that means. His brain presents an impossible angle of Satoshi fingering himself, all moaned hums and hisses. Wakatoshi’s gut tightens and his hips thrust involuntarily at the front of his pants. “Don’t worry, though~! I’ll still fuck myself with these before we get to the toy.”

Satoshi holds up his lubed fingers and wriggles them teasingly. Wakatoshi sees a few people in the chat window share his sentiment about Satoshi’s hands.

“My hands?” Satoshi laughs as he reads the same messages. “How sweet! They’re pretty fucked up, though.”

He leans back and reaches behind him with that hand. He sighs as he does something. Wakatoshi desperately wants to see. He didn’t think fingering was particularly hot, but given his instant obsession with Satoshi hands… Satoshi hisses lightly and his arm shifts as he thrusts his fingers into himself. Wakatoshi gasps and drops his hand to the front of his pants, pressing the other to his mouth.

Satoshi moans, a gut wrenching way that tugs at every one of Wakatoshi’s strings. It’s followed by a usual giggle. Satoshi holds up his free hand to the camera.

“I’m surprised you all like them so much,” Satoshi says, breathy and punched out. Wakatoshi shoves his hands in his pants with a grunt. “Maybe I should take better care of them then, huh? They get pretty beat up at practice.”

Wakatoshi snaps out of his arousal briefly at that. He has to ask, or he’s just going to keep thinking about it, he concludes. He types one handed, tugging at himself as Satoshi sighs and hums his way through another finger. The message pops up in the chat, short and almost unnoticeable in the waves of tips and horny comments.

> _**miracleboy:** What do you play?_

Wakatoshi is very much prepared for his message to go unseen. He fumbles with the lube as he puts some in his hand. He puts his hand back in his pants and holds his head up with his free one, watching the stream intensely.

Satoshi pulls his fingers out with a wet noise and sighs again. He grabs the base of the dildo that’s pressed to the floor and slicks it up. He moves onto all fours as he positions himself over it. He looks at the chat again. His ass held inches above the tip of the pink cock.

“Ah, hello miracle, good to see you have hands,” Satoshi says. Wakatoshi pauses. “Though, I bet they’re pretty busy, eh?” He laughs once at his own joke before continuing. “What I play? Ah, I play volleyball! Blocker, mostly for fun, but I still have my old kneepads somewhere.”

Comments flood in about how long he could be on his knees with those. Wakatoshi is busy picturing Satoshi on the court. Yeah, he looks like a blocker.

“Anywho!” Satoshi chimes. He lowers himself even more until the tip is pressed against him. He gasps and lets it out in a sing-song tone. “Hope my thighs don’t give out, right?”

Wakatoshi thinks with certainty that they won’t.

Satoshi lowers himself with a moan that feels torn from him. Wakatoshi fucks up into his hand, groaning against his palm. Inch by inch, Satoshi sits further down. He reaches the base and groans. He grins broadly and leans forward to place his hands on the floor in front of him. He pushes himself up then drops himself back down hard. Wakatoshi grips his base at the sound that comes out of Satoshi’s mouth. Satoshi sets a relentless rhythm that has him groaning loud. It tugs at Wakatoshi’s core and he wraps his hand around the shaft of his dick. He fucks into his hand, trying to match the pace. Pre drips down the side, and he wipes it off with his thumb.

Satoshi’s face is flushed as he lifts one hand to push some of his hair back. Wakatoshi watches, entranced, as Satoshi bites his bottom lip and cracks a smile at the camera. Satoshi spreads his legs further to get even lower and his whines make Wakatoshi inhale sharply.

Wakatoshi falls into another fantasy as his mind treats him to the image of Satoshi sitting above him, hands on Wakatoshi’s chest. Satoshi could lean down and bite at his chest, could smile against his neck while leaving a deep dark mark just out of sight, could let those groans out right into his skin. It’s an image that has Wakatoshi scrunching his eyes closed as pleasure shoots through him. His leg draws up when his thighs tense. He uses his foot to help thrust up into his hand.

The feeling and the image Satoshi makes, fucking back wantonly on the toy, proves to be a lot. Wakatoshi bites the side of his palm gently as noises fight to get out of his throat. He pants heavily and watches Satoshi as his thrusts break rhythm and the tension starts snapping.

Satoshi runs his hands up and down his thighs when he pauses. His eyes are hazy as he looks into the camera. He rubs a hand up his cock and gathers the precum that’s been dripping steadily since he sat. He holds up his dirty fingers to the camera before wiping it off on something off screen. He laughs as the chat blows up with messages.

“Eat it? Afraid you’d have to pay for that, and oh the moment has passed,” Satoshi says. His voice is raw in a wonderful way. A way that Wakatoshi slows his thrusts to listen to better. Satoshi shimmies his hips and whines. “God… fuck. It hits my prostate but not hard enough.” Satoshi’s eyebrows furrow as his face scrunches up. His hips twitch. “Shit!”

Wakatoshi pushes into his fist eagerly as Satoshi begins fucking himself again. His thighs are shaking constantly now, the strain clear but not slowing him down. Wakatoshi breathes into his hand heavily. Satoshi grabs his dick, too, pulling at it harshly and using the precum as lube. It has to be uncomfortable, but Satoshi’s moans only hit a higher pitch and his thrust get uneven.

Wakatoshi has seen videos of how an ass clenches down hard when the person is coming. Wakatoshi’s eyes flutter as he tightens his grip and pictures it. Rhythmic pulses squeezing him for everything he’s got. His balls ache and he moves his other hand to palm them, too. Satoshi’s breathing gets sharp and quick. His spine arches and the thrusts get shallow as Satoshi jerks himself off, too. One of his thighs slips on the floor and he drops down harder. It punches a desperate noise out of him that hits Wakatoshi hard. Wakatoshi cums harder and doesn’t get a tissue in time to weaken it. He cringes as the first jet splatters against his shirt and stomach. The others are not as violent, dribbling out and down his cock while he strokes himself through it.

Satoshi lasts longer. Wakatoshi watches as the redhead orgasms, floating in his own afterglow. Satoshi drops himself hard enough that his skin slaps against the hardwood floors. He whimpers weakly and his cum sprays across the floor in front of him.

Wakatoshi starts cleaning himself up as Satoshi rides the pleasure out. Wakatoshi probably needs another shower, but he’s too tired. He wipes himself up thoroughly and pulls his shirt off to throw it towards the hamper. He deems his pants clean enough and pulls them back on. Satoshi has mostly recovered when Wakatoshi turns back to the screen.

Satoshi slowly pulls himself off the dildo and promptly collapses, sitting back on his ass. He kicks the dildo until it detaches from the floor and rolls away. He winces and shifts how he’s sitting.

Satoshi responds to some messages in chat again, thanks the final tippers, and the watchers begin to leave. Wakatoshi blinks blearily and yawns as he listens to every word Satoshi says. Satoshi cleans up the mess he made with his own t-shirt, and scoots closer to the camera to continue reading messages. Soon, the redhead begins the outro spiel and waves goodbye, wishing those still there a good night.

Wakatoshi finds himself typing before he can double guess it.

> **miracleboy:** Sleep well, Satoshi.

The messages don’t flood his out this time. There are a few others who send goodbye messages as well. Wakatoshi watches Satoshi’s half-lidded eyes read the chat. A small, tired smile cracks on Satoshi’s face.

“Sleep well? Thanks, miracle, that’s real sweet of you,” the redhead says. He looks back to the camera and sticks his tongue out. “Have a good one, everybody. See you next week.”

Wakatoshi plans to spend the weekend finding his way around the college’s gym schedule they were all sent. Satoshi posts a video late Saturday and the plans go out the window. It’s a preview, only thirty seconds or so, of Satoshi fingering himself. The camera is set so the viewer sees exactly what’s going on. It cuts off just as the second finger slips in. The website claims the full video is available for a purchase using the site’s currency, or subscribers to Satoshi’s channel.

Wakatoshi thinks he should probably hesitate about spending real money to buy a package of the website’s currency. He makes enough money, but he was raised frugal. And this was also porn. Wakatoshi sighs his doubts away and confirms the purchase. He sets himself up with tissues at the ready and lube as he purchases the video for a decent price, he thinks. He watches up to and past where the preview ended when he has a thought. Hesitantly, he shifts until he can reach behind himself. He rewinds the video and follows Satoshi’s motions on himself.


	3. college gym

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no porn this chapter. 
> 
> some world stuff and introductions to plot bits. i don't really have a plan for where this is going but i haven't written this much in... a year? ain't about to stop now.

On Sunday, Wakatoshi takes a day to relax. He orders take-out food and watches some bad TV shows Bokuto recommended. They are as terrible as promised. The plots are over elaborate and it’s all miscommunication. His phone goes off every now and again with reminders from the team group chat about the gym change. Wakatoshi tries to work out the schedule in his mind. He was never great sorting those things out without writing it down.

Instead, he takes stock of his recent decisions.

There was some part of him that knows that being so interested in a person, one he’s seen twice and “spoken” to only once, is strange. Especially since now he’s paid money for it. Wakatoshi doesn’t feel conflicted about it. He knows he should. He knows he should be embarrassed about it or nervous about being found out. He figures the only way he could be found it, though, is if someone was looking for it. At that point, whoever was calling him out would have their own questions to answer. Wakatoshi makes enough money that as long as he doesn’t dump hundreds into it, he’ll be fine. It’s not like he buys many things, anyhow. He enjoyed himself during the streams, and one night a week wouldn’t kill him. He would try tipping next Friday.

The team is gathered outside the gym when Wakatoshi arrives a little late. He apologizes to the coach as he joins the group. He sits on the bench Bokuto and Kageyama have claimed. Kageyama sips at a plastic milk bottle and Bokuto fiddles with his phone. Wakatoshi doesn’t have time to get bored before the last few people arrive—Hinata among them.

Hinata insists Wakatoshi sits in the back with Kageyama and Bokuto. Wakatoshi goes without protest. He learned pretty quick that fighting back wasn’t worth it. Kageyama silently shoves himself in the window seat as Bokuto takes the one across the aisle. Hinata throws himself into the seat. Kageyama grunts and shoves him. Wakatoshi sits in his own seat as the two squabble. He puts headphones in for the ride, ignoring when Bokuto leans over him to keep talking with Hinata.

The college campus is expansive. Wakatoshi doesn’t know a lot about colleges. He never looked at them in high school. He was set to play volleyball professionally before his final year. He assumes the campus is nice. Several large modern buildings make up the main entrance area. There’s a large courtyard and carefully kept trees and bushes. As the bus moves through the campus, they come across older, blockier buildings with students coming and going in various stages of readiness. He assumes these are the dorms, considering how many are leaving in their pajamas.

The gym is bit out of the way, flanked by outdoor tennis courts and grass fields. There’s a dining hall nearby but the lights are all off. The bus pulls up to the sidewalk near the gym and the coach hollers at them to behave. Wakatoshi files out with the rest of the team, gathering just outside on the sidewalk.

Wakatoshi glances up and down the street. It’s very early and there’s still morning fog hanging around. A few staff members go into the dining hall, looking over at them oddly. Wakatoshi zones out as they’re led into the athletic building by the director that welcomes them.

There are two rooms, one with three courts and the other with two. There’s a loft sitting area in both of them. Official practice would be in the three-court room. It wouldn’t last as long as their usual practices, and it would only be in the morning. Two weeks that way. If they wanted to hang around afterwards, they’d move to the other gym in case other teams need to use it. They were warned that students might go into that gym to practice, too. Their coach reminds them that they were going to be respectful, or else.

They’re shown to the locker rooms, the bathrooms, and closets where the nets. The athletic director hangs around to talk to the coach while the team starts to set up.

Wakatoshi zones out even harder as he falls into the rhythm of practice. Sakusa gives him tips on how to angle the spikes right. Wakatoshi runs through the beats of the attacks he researched Friday night. It’s messy but he gets it right. They go through drills. He savors the burn in his muscles as practice rolls to a close.

Hinata pounces and attempts to convince Wakatoshi to do extra practice with them in the other room. Wakatoshi was already planning on it so he agrees. Bokuto declines, looking physically pained by it. He and Akaashi have a lunch date. Sakusa also leaves as soon as practice ends. He hates that they have to use another gym with every fiber of his being. He makes it very clear he’s not spending more time there than necessary. Atsumu joins them, though, much to Kageyama’s irritation. The rest of the team leaves on the bus.

They naturally spread to take up both courts. Wakatoshi habitually steps onto the one the other three aren’t using to practice his float serves. He does especially bad. He knows he’s scowling as he continues. When one of them doesn’t even go over the net, he stops. No use getting angry, he tells himself. Irritation was fine, because he knows he’s done better, but getting angry and fucking up because of it wasn’t helpful.

With a huff, he grabs his water bottle and shoves out the doors. He was trying to place what he was doing wrong this time around. It was probably when he hit the ball. Maybe he was putting a spin on it accidentally. He should really just ask Atsumu about it. But the setter would have an attitude about it. He had an attitude about anything. He’d teach Wakatoshi how to do it, sure, but he’d brag about it. The idea made Wakatoshi frown. He rolls his left shoulder and shakes his arm out on the way back to the gym. He weighs the options. He’d rather suffer through failed serves than Atsumu’s attitude.

There’s a group of students huddled near the gym doors when he rounds the corner. They’re hunched together and peering through the slim opening in the door. Wakatoshi glances them up and down. They have gym bags and volleyball shoes. The college team was in the main gym, Wakatoshi thinks, but they must be people playing for fun. Why aren’t they going in?

Wakatoshi walks up behind them and stands there for a second before he speaks. They whisper and hiss to each other, making vague gestures toward the gyms. Wakatoshi can hear Kageyama shout at Hinata and the slam of a ball against the court. A few in the group flinch from the smack.

“Excuse me,” Wakatoshi says. The group immediately turns to him, eyes wide like deer in headlights. Wakatoshi realizes he didn’t plan what he was going to say. One of them gasps and jabs another next to them in the ribs. “If uh-- If you want to go in, feel free. We can use one court. We don’t want to impose.”

The one that gasped fumbles with his words as he struggles to put a sentence together. Wakatoshi walks past them back into the gym. He picks up the volleyballs he had left out and throws them in the cart. He moves to the court with the other three, who look over curiously. He nods back to the group creeping in through the door.

Wakatoshi sets himself up in the corner of the court to continue his serves and the other three take up the other half. He takes a few careful breaths and relaxes his face as he falls into the rhythm again. Vaguely, he hears Hinata greeting the group and introducing himself. Kageyama telling him to stop bothering them. Atsumu smugly introducing himself after Kageyama says so. Wakatoshi gives up on floaters and does a round of spike serves. They crack like thunder in the air and it’s therapeutic to watch them go without a hitch. Kageyama joins him until Wakatoshi decides to head home.

Hinata and Atsumu have found their way into the group’s game when Wakatoshi packs his things up. They’re skirmishing, with Hinata and Atsumu on opposite teams. Hinata waves goodbye and Wakatoshi half-heartedly returns it. He should review more jump floater videos, he thinks.

Outside the gym, it’s officially afternoon. More students are around and the dining hall is open. Wakatoshi puts his headphones in and begins walking through the campus. He looks up a map so he doesn’t get lost. He sends it to Kageyama. Kageyama sends him a middle finger. Wakatoshi snorts. Kageyama was still going to use it.

Wakatoshi didn’t want to bother with any of the bus schedules. The campus seems even bigger moving through it on foot. The scenery is nice at least. There are a lot of picnic areas and weird art pieces. Wakatoshi wouldn’t mind going to school here if he had to. He gets a few looks, people who recognize him or people who know the faces on campus and don’t recognize him. Most keep their heads down and mind their own business. He’s used to it, though. People have been staring since he started growing. He never had a growth spurt, he just kept getting taller as a kid.

The campus sits near a major road, with one massive crosswalk connecting it to the other side. Wakatoshi busies himself on his phone while he waits for the light to change. Students around him chatter to their friends. He catches phrases—a cruel teacher, an assignment due, noisy neighbors, rude neighbors, lunch plans, clubbing plans.

Wakatoshi realizes he should really get out more. The thought slows his scrolling on his phone. He frowns sharply and locks his phone before shoving it in his pocket. He looks up to watch the light. It changes a full minute later and the crowds on either side of the street rush to cross.

Wakatoshi keeps his eyes down on his feet. He steps only on either the white stripes or the black pavement, never putting his foot where it would touch both. People bump against his shoulders, such is the way of crowds, but then someone bumps into him head on. He glances up and automatically apologizes. The person does the same, with a nervous laugh. Wakatoshi catches a glimpse of red hair.

He doesn’t register it—busy counting his steps and avoiding the cracks of the sidewalks—until he’s a third of the way home. He stops on the street, luckily not directly in anyone’s way, and glances back. He shakes his head and keeps walking. He’s thinking about it too much, he concludes. He’s thinking way too much about it.

Wakatoshi gets himself a breakfast sandwich for lunch at the cafe. The host is there and waves meekly from where he’s fixing drinks. Wakatoshi wishes that he’d ask Wakatoshi out and get it over with. Waiting for something to happen makes it worse. More awkward. Wakatoshi couldn’t read a room for shit, in his opinion, but he knew when things were awkward. As Wakatoshi heads back to his apartment, he thinks he should get a dog. Or a cat? Some kind of animal. He would have to check what his apartment’s rules were on pets. He always liked animals.

He grabs his mail from the front lobby and digs through his email account to when he got sent the apartment’s rules. Pets allowed, had to behave, can’t make too much noise. An old dog, Wakatoshi thinks. One from the shelters he always sees advertised on his minimal social media account.

Tuesday and Wednesday go by without major incident. The team members that stay after their limited practice time always huddle onto one court so others can feel free to enter. Hinata makes fast friends with some of the people who usually show up. He plays with them when they arrive. It doesn’t take long for Bokuto to be dragged along. Kageyama puts up an air of resistence, but gives in when Atsumu misses a day. Wakatoshi does his serves on his own. He gets some good floaters and sighs in relief when they go over the net.

A small crowd begins to gather to watch the games on the other court. Friends of the players, or people who were avoiding the gym because they were scared to bother the professionals. Hinata knocks that barrier down swiftly with a compliment on a receive and one of his signature smiles. It’s the same smile that he uses to pull Wakatoshi onto the court when they need a twelfth on Thursday.

There are rules for them. Minor ones just to make sure no one gets hurt. Go easy on spikes, serves, so on. Two professionals on each team, Hinata and Bokuto against Kageyama and Wakatoshi.

It’s fun.

Wakatoshi doesn’t even mind going light on his spikes. He gets to see Hinata and Bokuto cringe with every feint he pulls off. Some people that play stay consistent. Others come and go. Wakatoshi learns a few of their names but he’s never good with faces.

He also looks into the pet idea. He decides on a dog, but one that’s old but with energy. One he could do his jogs with. He finds himself smiling when he thinks about it.

On Friday, Hinata announces that he and his friend from the first day planned to stay later that day so more people could play, including a few from the college team. Wakatoshi hangs around for it. The college players come in, nervous, and Hinata bounces to greet them. It’s always fun watching people react to Hinata’s aggressive niceness. Wakatoshi leans against the wall with Kageyama sitting next to him while Hinata eagerly introduces himself.

“I don’t get how he’s good at that,” Kageyama grumbles. Wakatoshi glances down to see Kageyama nod towards Hinata. Kageyama is filing his nails idly. “Meeting people.”

“Agreed,” Wakatoshi says. Hinata and the new arrivals laugh at something together. He’s already made them comfortable. He leads them further into the gym, towards some of the regular students. “Bokuto is the same way.”

Kageyama grunts in agreement. Bokuto comes in from the locker room. Wakatoshi sees a few get star struck as Bokuto walks over. Wakatoshi smirks against his water bottle. He can practically see the shines in their eyes. He chuckles. Kageyama looks up, then looks to Wakatoshi.

“They look at you like that, too,” Kageyama says. Wakatoshi chokes on his water. He coughs until his throat is clear and glares down at Kageyama. The setter shrugs and starts filing his other hand. “Have since high school.”

Wakatoshi rolls his eyes and puts his water bottle down next to their stuff. He stretches his shoulders back and forth before he walks back towards the court. Hinata sees him coming and eagerly introduces him to the college team. Wakatoshi pointedly doesn’t pay attention if they look at him with an awe in their eyes.

The games start, and they have enough for two courts. Wakatoshi ends up against Hinata. The teams change every set. And it’s fun, infectiously so. Wakatoshi ends up setting for a few points and Kageyama gets a good laugh out of it. He gets irritated but keeps it to himself, considering the people he plays with already walk around on egg shells when looking at him. He really hopes they aren’t as scared of him as they’re acting. Every now and again, he wishes he could be friendly like Hinata and Bokuto, just so he doesn’t feel so guilty when people flinch away from him.

It’s in the middle of a rally when a group walks into the loft seating area.

Wakatoshi glances up when he sees the movement but falls back into the game easily. He’s setting again, somehow, but so is Bokuto. They suffer as one. Wakatoshi gets a dump over him. Their team makes a serve that the other side picks up easily. Bokuto is going for a spike from the back. Wakatoshi falls back to dig it up as the block stops a cross shot. Bokuto knows it’s happening, knows he’s hitting it at Wakatoshi, so he doesn’t hold back. Wakatoshi forgot how close Bokuto could put it to the line. He tries to step back but it’s too late. The ball slams into his upper arms and bounces right into his face.

The crack is deafening.

“Oh shit!” Bokuto shouts. Wakatoshi lets the momentum goes through him and falls back on his ass weakly. “Fuck, you okay?!”

Wakatoshi blinks his eyes against the spots that form in his visions. He nods slowly as his head aches. He reaches up to wipe his nose and his hand comes back with blood. He grimaces. It was his mistake, he knows that, and that makes it worse when Bokuto rushes to his side to help him up.

“I’m fine,” Wakatoshi says. He wipes his nose again. “Just didn’t back up enough.”

“Shiiiiit,” Bokuto hisses. He peers at Wakatoshi’s nose, and swats the man’s hands away so he can look for himself. “I don’t think it’s broken? But you look like a tomato.”

Wakatoshi frowns and fixes Bokuto with a look. Bokuto just grins and pats him aggressively on the shoulder. It jostles him and his head spins a bit.

“Thank you,” Wakatoshi says, all dry sarcasm. Bokuto laughs but has a sense to look embarrassed. Wakatoshi vaguely remembers where the first aid office was. He holds his hand under his nose and leans his head forward. A few more drops land in his palm. “I’ll be back.”

Wakatoshi waves off the concern from the college students and Hinata from the other court. Bokuto trails him to the door of the gym, flittering around him.

“Hey! Uh—“ Bokuto says when Wakatoshi steps out in the hallway. Bokuto smiles casually. “If it makes it up you, I’ll let you take a spike at me?”

Wakatoshi narrows his eyes and the smile turns fearful.

“M-Maybe not--”

“That would make me feel much better,” Wakatoshi says. “Thank you, Bokuto.”

“...Yeah, no problem,” Bokuto mumbles. He sulks back into the gym

Wakatoshi holds his nose and goes down the hall towards the office. He sees one of the signs pointing in the right direction and follows that. The halls are mostly empty as everyone watches the games in the second gym. A few staff members go by without glancing at him.

Wakatoshi walks into the small office with a hesitant glance around. The door hangs open behind him The rooms like this are pretty uniform in set up, similar to ones he’s been in before. He pulls paper towels free from the dispenser to clean his hand and nose. He sits on the small bed while he waits for the bleeding to stop. It’s not bleeding too much, but he’d need to ice his nose to be safe. Wakatoshi sighs and leans against the counter next to the bed while he waits. He’d start searching for the ice packs, but he doesn’t want to get blood anywhere.

There’s a quick knock on the door before a head pops in. Wakatoshi looks up. If it was his teammates, he’d tell them off. If it was a student, he’d tell them he was fine and if they could show him where the ice packs were.

“Hey, man, you doing alright?” the person says as they slip into the room.

Wakatoshi doesn’t say anything as he blinks up at them. Red hair, slicked back and up out of his face. Cherry, cherry red. Wakatoshi is happy his face is already red from the blow.

Satoshi steps into the cramped room with a sharp grin. Wakatoshi has a moment of brain static where he tries to connect the two. Satoshi is wearing an unzipped hoodie and straight cut jeans. Wakatoshi is horrible with faces, but he can’t be that bad, can he?

“You alright?” Satoshi says, leaning to get a look at where Wakatoshi was holding his face.

Wakatoshi clears his throat and pushes any thoughts of previous fridays out of his head for the time being. Wakatoshi might not be embarrassed by it, but other people are, and Satoshi is no exception.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Wakatoshi says quietly. He doesn’t know what to say, or if he’s supposed to say anything. This is why he’s bad at conversation. “I’ve gotten hit with worse.”

“Really?” Satoshi asks. He giggles and yeah, that’s him. Wakatoshi puts all erotic thoughts in a box and shoves it out of sight. He would behave normally. His normal was still pretty awkward. And he could always be wrong. Twins were a thing, after all. Wakatoshi nods and regrets it as his head throbs again. Satoshi hums curious and digs through one of the cabinets. “What’s the worst thing you’ve gotten hit with?”

Wakatoshi frowns and thinks carefully. “Hinata,” he says.

Satoshi pulls out a plastic ice pack. He burst out laughing and looks over to Wakatoshi with an incredulous expression. It’s bright and addicting. Wakatoshi finds himself smiling involuntarily.

“How do you get hit with Ninja Shouyou?” he asks, cackling.

“He found a way,” Wakatoshi says. He rubs his side at the memory. “Had a bruise for months.”

Satoshi snorts and cracks the ice pack. He shakes it in the air so it chills. Wakatoshi exhales deeply and changes the paper towel under his nose. The bleeding was nearly stopped. Satoshi takes the few steps closer and leans against the counter in front of Wakatoshi. He sweeps the dirty paper towels into the garbage bin just out of Wakatoshi’s reach.

The bleeding stops and Satoshi throws it out for him. He hands over the ice pack. Wakatoshi mutters a thank you and presses it to his face. The cold makes him wince but the following numbness is welcome. He sighs in relief.

“Tendou Satori,” Satoshi says, tilting his head. The grin his sharper in person, lopsided and nice to look at.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

“I know,” Tendou chimes. Wakatoshi glances at his feet and frowns. Tendou just giggles. “Didn’t think when they said a pro team was using our gym, it was the national team.”

“Uh… Sorry to intrude,” Wakatoshi says.

“Oh! No, no, it’s not a problem,” Tendou says. He waves off Wakatoshi’s worries. Wakatoshi watches his hand for a few moments before getting a hold of himself. “I get why they didn’t. Everyone would be showing up to get autographs and pictures.” Wakatoshi focuses on Tendou’s face and raises an eyebrow. Tendou’s face flashes with recognition. “That’s not why I’m here, don’t worry. I’m not gonna ambush an injured man. Just figured you might want to know where the ice was. It’s a bitch to find in here. I swear they put it in a different place every time!”

Wakatoshi hums low as he stands. Tendou steps back to give him room. He smiles up at Wakatoshi and Wakatoshi feels his face get hot and his chest tighten.

“My fingers get screwed up eight-ways to Sunday when I’m blocking,” Tendou says. He fidgets with his own fingers. The pinky finger on the left hand is taped to the ring finger. “Hell, I don’t even play for the school and I’m still bandaged up all the time.”

Wakatoshi nods. His head feels a bit better. Tendou jams his hands in his hoodie pockets and tugs the door open with his foot. He holds it for Wakatoshi to exit first.

“Good luck back in there,” Tendou says. Mischief slides across his face as he walks away. “Remeber to receive with your arms, mister professional!”

“I’ll try,” Wakatoshi mutters. It makes Tendou laugh. Warmth spreads through Wakatoshi’s gut.

Tendou waves as he skips around the corner and out of sight, humming a nonsense tune. Wakatoshi feels his heart racing in his chest. He takes a few deep breaths before setting out back towards the gym.

They were thoughts for later, when he was in his apartment and had all the spare time and space to think about it. It was Friday. Which meant Satoshi had a stream. Wakatoshi would try to sort his thoughts out in that window of time. He’s not sure if he wants to call it a crush, partly because he had no reference. But he knew he was interested.

Hinata teases him when he returns to the gym. Wakatoshi smacks Hinata upside the head without hesitation as he picks up his things. Kageyama laughs at Hinata’s whining. Bokuto winces in sympathy.

Wakatoshi cleans up in the locker room and heads home.

He sorts his thoughts to the backdrop of the terrible TV shows. Not a crush, he didn’t know enough about Tendou-Satoshi to have one, he thinks. Maybe some kind of lust. Maybe it’s plain interest. Interest because Tendou-Satoshi seems distinctly unlike most people Wakatoshi knows. Interest because Tendou-Satoshi sparked his interest, pure and simple.

Wakatoshi sets a reminder on his phone to check the nearby shelter websites tomorrow morning. For now, he silences it and puts it and his tablet in the drawer of his end table. He sets up his laptop on his thighs. He makes a mental note to get one of those laptop trays. It would make things easier. He logs into the site.

He’s still a few minutes early. He buys another package of the site’s currency. It should last him a while, he thinks. He opens Satoshi’s page a minute after eleven to see the stream already started. Satoshi is still saying his hellos, hair pushed back. Yeah, Wakatoshi thinks. He wasn’t wrong about Tendou and Satoshi being one and the same.

The nail in the coffin is when Tendou-Satoshi holds up his left hand to show off the bandages on his fingers. He grins without any guilt as he apologizes for not taking care of the hands they all like so much. Wakatoshi finds himself smiling back at the screen.

There was nothing wrong with being interested, Wakatoshi thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ushiwaka is autistic bc i am and i say so. the crosswalk thing? if you know, you know.


	4. sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> interactions :o

Tendou—and Wakatoshi still isn’t sure which name he should be referring to him as—does the introduction things. He greets who he sees, including Wakatoshi’s username. He sits cross-legged in front of the camera, settled in the middle of his bed. The headboard is visible behind him. There’s a small pillows with chibi character on it among the plain white pillows. Tendou is wearing a tight fitting t-shirt that shows the contours of his chest to his stomach. Short shorts rest on his hips, short enough that they don’t need to be hiked up to be near the crease of his thighs and groin. His bulge is prominent and he makes no move to hide it.

Blatant sexuality that sets the fire low in Wakatoshi’s stomach.

Tendou rubs his hand up and down across the front of his shorts. Casual, slow, and entirely relaxed. Wakatoshi clicks the tip button.

> _**miracleboy tipped 200!** _

He hears the chime a few seconds later. Tendou looks over to check the chat and surprise flickers across his face. It vanishes and Tendou puts on a signature grin as he replies.

“Damn, thank you, miracle,” he says. “I haven’t even gotten the box out. Any requests?”

Wakatoshi wasn’t planning on that. He was ready for his message to vanish in the sea of other tips. Did he tip too much? He knows most people paid in batches of 20 or 50, but that wasn’t much real money. It was barely five dollars for twenty coins. He might not know how much sex workers get paid, but they deserve more than five fucking dollars.

> **miracleboy:** What you’re doing is fine, but please be careful with your hand.

Tendou brightens at that and laughs.

“If you’re sure… So sweet, I’ll do my best,” he says.

Tendou keeps rubbing the front of his shorts. They cling tight to him. He strokes so his dick hardens up along the crease of his thighs. Tendou’s hips twitch up into his hand and he sighs.

“I’ve been pent up all week,” he says, tossing his head back. “Exams, bullshit, roommate, on and on, no time for—ha, for stuff like this.” Tendou releases himself briefly, tugging down the legs of his shorts uselessly. He hisses as it drags the fabric along his dick. He giggles at himself. He runs fingers up the underside and digs it into his tip. He groans and thumbs at his head, “Fuuccckkk… Listen, listen. I gotta make tonight count ‘cause then I’m gonna be busy again and way too fucking tired. I’m already tired but there’s gonna be fucking… hot guys all over the fucking gym. Ohhh, it’s gonna suck so good.”

Tendou laughs at his own phrase and lays down on his back. He lifts his hips, yanking his shorts down roughly and kicking them off his legs. He flings them off and rolls onto his side to reach under the bed. He returns with the box from last week.

“I got some new ones, but I’ll still leave it up to tipper’s choice,” Tendou says. He places the box to his side and pulls out a crooked black dildo-esc thing. It’s smaller than the pink one, but starts broad and thins at the base where it curls into a base. “First is this. Prostate massager. Doesn’t feel like a lot at first but once it starts going it feels fan-fucking-tastic.” Tendou presses a switch at the base. The toy begins vibrating, the hum hits Wakatoshi in the guy. “But then we got this.” Tendou pulls out a fleshlight, matte black. “And lastly, this.” It’s a small silver egg shape with a cord hanging from it. It comes with a small hand held remote. Tendou presses a button on the remote and the egg pulses.

The chat erupts with people’s votes. Tips pour in, chiming one after another.

Wakatoshi gets lost in the images.

First. Tendou hunched over, fucking into the fleshlight recklessly, abdomen tensing and feet digging into the mattress for purchase. Wakatoshi bites his bottom lip. It felt good fingering himself last weekend to Tendou’s video, better than he expected. He could almost picture how it would feel to get fucked like that. He hisses and pulls his pants down to his knees.

Another. Tendou sprawled out with a leg propped up so he can angle the massager deep where it’s supposed to hit. Wakatoshi had brushed that spot last weekend. He jacked himself hard and fast when he poked there and came in minutes. Tendou moaning unashamed and wildly, thrashing back and forth while it presses right into that sweet spot. Riding each wave of pleasure, relaxed and laid back, confident.

Finally. Tendou running the small egg shape up and down his dick. Holding it under the ridge of his head until he whines and has to pull it away. Circling the base and thrusting up into nothing trying to chase the feeling. Drawing it down, moaning when his passes over his balls and over his taint, pressing it against his rim but not inside.

Wakatoshi grunts and rubs a hand over his face. His dick throbs but he doesn’t move to touch himself yet. Might as well make it count, too. He reaches for his keyboard and puts in another tip.

> _**miracleboy tipped 200!**_

Tendou is already watching the chat so he immediately sees the message, even as others try to flush it out with their desperate begging.

“Woaaahh, miracle!” Tendou says. His eyebrows go down in confusion, but he stays smiling. Incredulous, like in the first aid office. “You might need to slow down, I don’t wanna take your rent money!” Tendou giggles and a few seconds pass. He leans his chin in his palm. His free hand reaches down to tug at himself. “Still no request? C’mon man, pick something. I feel like I owe you. Anything’ll be good for me.”

Wakatoshi frowns.

> **miracleboy:** You don’t owe me anything?

Tendou laughs and shakes his head.

“You’re sweet, I’ll say it till I die, but let me give you something?” Tendou asks. He tilts his head and pulls the edge of his shirt up to bare his stomach. “Got a preference? Got a fantasy? I’ll do a fetish if it isn’t like… super out there.”

> **miracleboy:** Not particularly.

Tendou sighs and slumps in his hand. He runs his other one up and down his stomach. There’s softness to it. It’s cute.

“It doesn’t work if we’re both willing to do whatever,” Tendou says. “One of us has to make a decision here! You’re very sweet, but I’ll get off either way, so what’ll get you off the most?”

The ridiculous eyebrow waggle does nothing to stop the heat coiling. Wakatoshi grabs the lube bottle he’s grown very acquainted with and pours some out into his left hand so he can keep typing. The chat makes several recommendations. Wakatoshi doesn’t bother trying to follow it.

> **miracleboy:** The massager. You said you were tired? No need to work too hard.

Tendou’s grin softens and he lightly shakes his head again.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says. He puts the other things back in the box and drops the box on the floor. It clatters obnoxiously and Tendou snorts at it.

Wakatoshi ignores the different kind of warm that goes through him at the nickname. Tendou sits back and spreads his legs. The camera angle makes it look like they go on for miles. Wakatoshi would gladly die between those thighs, he thinks idly. He remembers some comments on Atsumu’s posts with a similar sentiment.

Tendou lubes his fingers up in practiced motions. He curls his hips to reach under him without going behind him. His arm presses his cock to his stomach while he deftly opens himself up. It had taken Wakatoshi twice the length of the video to get to the point Tendou got to. It’s impressive, Wakatoshi’s brain supplies. Practice, he figures. He brain then supplies him images of such practices and his dick throbs again.

It isn’t long before Tendou deems himself ready. He hisses when he pulls his fingers out and picks up the toy. He leans towards the camera as he lubes up the toy. He holds it up, waving it teasingly, dopey grin all over his face. He reaches down his stomach, holding the toy so it would curl to his front. He straightens up so the camera sees as he presses the massager into him. The base settles against his taint and Tendou hums as he adjusts, pitchy and uneven. He takes careful deep breaths before he opens his eyes again and looks into the camera.

Tendou giggles to himself before grinning mockingly.

“How do you want me, sweetheart?” he says, quiet and teasing. Wakatoshi slowly starts to jack himself and reaches for the keyboard again.

> _**miracleboy tipped 100!** _
> 
> **miracleboy:** Laid back? Against the pillows.

Tendou shakes his head again and does as Wakatoshi asks with a placated. He spreads his limbs out in the way that makes them seem miles long. His hand wanders its way down his still clothed chest and bare stomach. He hums to himself and traces nonsense patterns along the inside of his thigh. He reaches under himself to grab the base of the toy. He draws it out with a hiss and pushes it back in a few times. He shifts his grip to put his thumb on the switch. He looks into the camera again before he clicks it on.

Tendou moans immediately, back arching and free arm gripping the pillows under his head. His legs slip further apart on the sheets as his heels try to dig in. He presses the toy in harder. The vibrations are muted, but Wakatoshi can still hear them and it makes a groan bubble up in his chest.

Wakatoshi jacks himself while Tendou writhes on the mattress, thrusting up into nothing and pushing the toy in hard at different intervals. Tendou turns the toy up over the course of a few minutes. The vibrations get louder and faster as he does so. His dick doesn’t seem to stop dripping. His moans never seem to end, feeding into one another perfectly.

When he starts to get close, Tendou’s thighs tense and his legs bend up. A look passes over his face and he abruptly tries to move back into a sitting position. It pushes the toy in harder and he yelps. He slides his hands up his stomach and pulls his shirt up past his chest. One hand drags over his nipple and pinches it, which makes him whine again, and the other—the bandaged one—slides up his face and into his hair. His fingers lace through the strands. He grins again. But it’s wrecked and desperate. His eyes are hazy and his breaths are desperate.

“I’m really close, really, really close,” Tendou moans. He bounces his hips helplessly. He whines and tosses his head back. He looks down his nose at the camera and Wakatoshi can picture that expression looking down at him while Tendou rides him hard. Wakatoshi thrusts up into his hand as the pleasure burns through him and pants against his hand, face scrunching up. “Hey—Hey, miracle?” Wakatoshi’s eyes snap open wide. “Miracle~”

The messy sing-song tone has him dropping the hand on his face to type.

> **miracleboy:** Yes?

Tendou smiles, a little relieved. He drags his hand from his hair and holds it over his face. His bandaged fingers trace of his lips gently and his tongue darts out to lick them.

“It’s your request, sweetheart. Can I come?” Tendou asks breathlessly. He dissolves into begging as his hips twitch, mutter pleases and moans slurring together. Wakatoshi stifles his noise by biting his lips and hurriedly types an answer.

> **miracleboy:** Please.

Tendou moves back so the camera gets a clear view. One hand thrusts the toy in rapidly and the other jacks himself off, fast enough that the motion blurs on screen. Wakatoshi follows suit. He fucks up into his hand as Tendou’s stream of noises pitches awkwardly. Tendou curses wildly as his abdomen tightens and one of his thighs slip on the blankets. His motions stutter to a stop and a burst of cum splatters across the sheets. His moans turn weak and whiny. The next one catches on his hand and the one after that drips down the side of his shaft and his knuckles.

Wakatoshi has the tissues at the ready this time and haphazardly thrusts into his fist. He lets himself groan without filter as pleasure sparks up his spine and he cums into the tissue. He rides it out, stroking himself until he starts to pull away from it. The warmth floods through him and he sighs. He focuses back at the screen, chin in his clean hand.

Tendou turns the toy off and collapses onto his sheets after his own orgasm. Twitches rack through his body as he lays down. He runs tired hands up his thighs, head tilted back and savoring the euphoria. Slowly, he reaches under him and pulls the toy out. He lets it drag all the way there and hisses as it pops out of him. He tosses it to the side. His back arches is a lethargic stretch and he shifts his legs against the mattress. His foot brushes the cum drying on the sheets.

“Ew,” Tendou grumbles. “Why don’t I ever wear a fucking condom?”

Wakatoshi finds himself chuckling.

Tendou pushes himself up into a sitting position again. He breathes deep and moves towards the camera again to read the chat. He carefully avoids the stain forming on his blankets.

“I’d say that was good, eh?” Tendou laughs. The chat praises him and a few more tips roll in as people start to leave. “It’ll last me, hopefully. Fingers crossed for a gentle week.”

The outro begins and Wakatoshi sends in a final tip. He savors the chime and Tendou’s face as he sees the message.

> _**miracleboy tipped 200!** _

Tendou giggles deliriously, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Wakatoshi smiles to himself as Tendou wraps up the stream. He says his goodbyes and the stream ends. Wakatoshi logs himself out of the site and shuts down his laptop. He throws the tissues away and puts his laptop on the charger. He curls up in bed and lets the warmth from the evening seep into his bones. He looks up at the ceiling then rolls over onto his side to face the wall his bed is pressed against.

He decides he’s not going to think too hard about it all. Overthinking always got him in trouble. He’d probably never run into Tendou on the campus again. If he did, he wouldn’t make an ordeal about it. Simple.

Bokuto is almost shaking when he stands back for Wakatoshi to take the spike at him for hitting Wakatoshi in the face. They do it in the after practice, just as students start to arrive. Hinata sets it for him, giving Bokuto a guilty smile before he does. Bokuto lowers his hips and readies himself to receive.

Wakatoshi sees a pair of people enter the gym as he tosses the ball high for Hinata. He only notes them because one of them is Tendou. Hinata sets it high and soft, an easy unspecial toss. Wakatoshi winds up as he jumps. He sees Bokuto tense further as Wakatoshi lines up the shot. He aims for the ground in front of Bokuto. If Bokuto is lucky, it will bounce and hit him in the stomach. If he isn’t, it will hit him square in the crotch. Wakatoshi follows the ball with his eyes as it slams into the ground. The noise it makes draws the eyes of everyone in the room.

Bokuto is lucky. The ball slams into his gut, knocks the air out of him, and throws him onto his back. Bokuto’s arms come down to the ball and hold it against him as he groans. Wakatoshi smirks. Bokuto shakily sits up, face screwed up in pain.“Feel better?” Bokuto heaves, struggling to catch his breath.

“Much better, thank you,” Wakatoshi says. Bokuto slumps forward and Hinata ducks under the net to soother him.

Wakatoshi walks back to the cart and grabs another ball to go practice his serves with. He knows well that he’s being stared at. He ignores it and walks over to the second court.

A game starts on the first court with Hinata and Bokuto. Kageyama had something to do, and had griped about it the whole time he got changed to leave with the rest of the team. It left them with an uneven number of professionals. Wakatoshi willingly sat out. His jump floaters were almost consistent. They still left a lot to be desired, but it was something to show for how long he’d been working on it. People not playing busy themselves on the same court with Wakatoshi. They stay as far out of his way as possible.

He glances over to the game now and again, usually when there’s a small uproar. He sees Tendou sitting on the sidelines. One of the times he looks that way, Tendou is looking at him. They meet eyes and Wakatoshi paused. Tendou smiles and waves at him. Wakatoshi nods, returning to his serve toss. It’s off. Wakatoshi frowns and slams it down across the court. He grabs another ball from the cart and huffs. He tosses it up again, and when he serves it, it goes over the net and drops. Wakatoshi nods slightly to himself. That was what they were supposed to do.

Footsteps approach him and Wakatoshi looks over to see Tendou only a few feet away. Wakatoshi thinks that he looks good in regular clothes, too. A graphic long sleeve shirt and what looks like the same jeans from last week.

“You’re doing floaters?” Tendou asks.

“Mm,” Wakatoshi grunts. He grabs another ball.

“Don’tcha got that Miya guy who can do them?” Tendou asks. He talks with his hands, waving one absently in the air. His fingers are no longer wrapped. “Floaters and the spike ones, I mean. Could you ask him for tips or something?”

Wakatoshi grimaces, imagines the look on Atsumu’s face, and shakes his head. Tendou laughs

“That bad?” he asks. Wakatoshi nods again. “I guess he is the one that makes every shut up when he’s serving. I’m surprised people let him do that, honestly. Seems super obnoxious. He like that all the time?”

Wakatoshi presses his hands into the ball he holds. He says, “He’s a good setter.”

“So he is like that all the time?”

“Usually.”

Wakatoshi tosses the ball up and spike it while Tendou’s laugh bubbles out, light and addicting. The ball falls too far and Wakatoshi frowns. Tendou steps back to the wall. He sits to keep watching Wakatoshi’s serving. Wakatoshi can’t really ignore the eyes on him in that situation. He does his best and continues his serve practice.

It’s early afternoon when Wakatoshi rolls the cart next to the one the game is using and goes to pick up his water bottle. It’s near where Tendou is still sitting, knees drawn up to rest his arms on them. Wakatoshi picks up his bottle and takes a deep sip. Tendou stays watching him, idle smile on his face and squinting against the bright lights on the ceiling. Tendou hops to his feet while Wakatoshi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Heading out?” Tendou asks.

“Yes,” Wakatoshi says. He hesitates briefly before pointing to Tendou’s hand. “Are your fingers healed?”

Tendou holds that hand up, spreading his fingers and wriggling them as if to show he had full motion again. Wakatoshi looks at his water bottle when his brain gives him an image of Tendou’s hands in another situation. He would not make an ordeal out of it.

“I think so?” Tendou says. He tilts his head one way and turns his hand the other. His expressions are open and honest, Wakatoshi notes. His nose is scrunched in thought and his eyebrows furrow as he looks at his own hand. “Still hurts but they’re not going to fall off now. Exaggerating, but you get the idea.”

Wakatoshi did get it. He’d had some hand injuries that certainly felt like he would be better off without the fingers in question. He nods sagely and Tendou cracks a mischievious grin.

“Bet you give a bunch a people those kind ‘a things, though,” he says. Wakatoshi takes another gulp of water and shrugs. Tendou giggles. “Yeah, you just don’t want to admit it, huh?”

Maybe he didn’t. He definitely didn’t. He looks over at the other court, but they’re only doing a rotation. Tendou punches him in the shoulder lightly. It catches Wakatoshi off guard enough that he jolts. His head whips around to Tendou without his permission as his arms tense up. Tendou pulls back and holds his hands up placatingly. He looks guilty.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you!” Tendou says quickly.

Wakatoshi looks at his shoulder where Tendou hit him. It doesn’t hurt, obviously, but he’s very aware of it.

“It’s alright,” Wakatoshi says.

Tendou relaxes. He puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans and follows when Wakatoshi starts towards the locker room.

“Hey, did they give you guys passes to the dining hall?” Tendou asks when they step out into the hallway.

“No,” Wakatoshi answers.

“What!? Seriously? That’s so lame, you gotta walk all the way off campus for good food,” Tendou says. His voice breaks into a whine like he’s the one that has to do the walking. Wakatoshi points down the hall at the vending machine. Tendou follows it and rolls his eyes hard enough that his head moves with it. “I said good food, Ushiwaka.”

Wakatoshi tilts his head at the nickname. There’s a flash of regret on Tendou’s face when it falls from his mouth. It had been a long while since Wakatoshi was called that by anyone other than Hinata. Even then, Hinata only used it when he wanted something. Wakatoshi feels himself smiling as he remembers his high school team and he huffs a laugh. Tendou closes his mouth from whatever kind of apology he was about to say. His eyes are wide as he watches Wakatoshi’s face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Wakatoshi says. There’s a crack of a spike from the gym, followed by Bokuto shouting. “It’s been a while since people have called me that. I don’t mind.”

Tendou’s shoulders fall and he grins again.

“Everyone calls you that on twitter and instagram,” Tendou says. He shrugs. “Force of habit from seeing so many posts about the national team.”

“You follow us?”

“Duh.” The way Tendou says it isn’t insulting. Wakatoshi doesn’t feel as if he’s missed something, like he often did when someone said that to him. “You’re the _national_ team. You’re like… borderline famous. Hey, I don’t think I’ve ever seen their posts tag you, do you have an account on either?”

Wakatoshi frowns as he thinks. “From high school,” he says. “I haven’t used them since.”

Tendou leans forward as he suggests, “You should! You can post embarrassing pictures of that Miya guy! Or like… Of your pet if you have one!”

That was an idea. Atsumu was used to being embarrassed by Hinata and Sakusa. Wakatoshi doing it would certainly throw him for a loop. It’s a good picture. Wakatoshi laughs gently again. Tendou’s grin widens.

“Maybe,” Wakatoshi says. “I don’t know if I remember the passwords.”

“Hmm… Worse come to worse, you can just make new ones,” Tendou says. “I’ll let you clean up, sorry to keep you.”

Wakatoshi frowns as the guilty look from when he punched Wakatoshi in the shoulder returns, albeit smaller. It doesn’t look nearly as good as his other expressions, Wakatoshi decides.

“No worries,” Wakatoshi says. Tendou meets his eyes again. “I don’t mind speaking with you.”

The next smile is closer to Bokuto’s or Hinata’s. It’s sharper on the edges, because Tendou is himself is sharper than them. Warmth floods Wakatoshi’s stomach and chest at the sight. It’s good to see but even better to be the cause of.

“I might join the game tomorrow if you’re gonna play,” Tendou says. “My fingers should be all set by then.”

“You should take care of them,” Wakatoshi frowns.

“I am, cross my heart!” Tendou draws an x over his chest. “I was well behaved all weekend, promise.”

“Mm,” Wakatoshi grunts. Tendou laughs and starts to step back.

“See you tomorrow, Ushiwaka!”

Tendou skips back into the gym, waving the whole way there. Wakatoshi nods back and when Tendou is out of sight, proceeds into the locker room. He packs his things while he thinks the conversation over. He tries not to think about it too much, but he can’t help it when the warmth in him is still lingering.

On the walk out of the campus, Wakatoshi carefully places his steps and zones out to the quiet music in his headphones. He loses himself in the lyrics until he’s back at his apartment building. His phone pings with another reminder to check the shelter sites. He pulls one up as he climbs the stairs.


	5. late lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no porn this chapter, but there should be a heavy helping sooon. 
> 
> anywho. im incapable of writing anything w/o fluff so we got some of that. some bonding. 
> 
> is ushiwaka and his dog adventure relevant? not particularly. am i gonna see it through? yeah, bc it'll be cute

Waktoshi is dragged into playing with the students when Kageyama is able to stay late  again , and they need a fourth. Tendou shows up halfway through a set, in a loose t-shirt and basketball shorts. He waves to Wakatoshi when h e glances over.  The students rotate in and out of play. Wakatoshi didn’t even notice when Tendou was put in until the man was standing opposite him at the net. Tendou laces his hands behind his head as another student readies to serve.

A girl in the back bumps the serve up clean and the person setting moves under it. He shouts for Wakatoshi to finish it. Wakatoshi winds up after he jumps—there was an unspoken rule for the professionals to go easy-ish when attacking. 

It’s not that the students haven’t tried blocking him. They hadn’t done it in a while, since he usually just blasted through them. Instead, they try to limit his options and dig it up. Wakatoshi even sees Hinata moving into position to receive, hovering in the corner of his vision. 

But then there are hands in front of his shot, and they slam the ball down on his side of the court.

Wakatoshi looks up and Tendou stares down at him, hands still held up. There’s a moment of harsh silence  as everyone takes in what just happened. Hinata breaks it with a loud whoop and gibberish. A student smacks Tendou on the back with a laugh. The players laugh lightly and congratulate Tendou on the block. Tendou doesn’t react, instead just keeping eye contact with Wakatoshi. A grin cracks across his face. Wakatoshi finds himself smiling back, barely a quirk at the corner of his mouth.

“Nice one,” Wakatoshi says. 

Tendou grins wider and shakes his hands out. 

“That really fucking hurt,” Tendou hisses. Wakatoshi frowns. Someone picks the ball up and rolls it under the net so the other side can serve again. 

“Ah, sorry,” Wakatoshi says. 

Tendou snorts and shakes his head. He waves off Wakatoshi’s concern and puts his hands behind his head again  as the serve toss goes up. 

The game continues without any other major upsets. Wakatoshi watches Tendou play when he can. Tendou shuts down more spikes than Wakatoshi thought he would, sometimes moving before the set even goes up. Wakatoshi goes right through his block the next time Tendou tries to stuff him.  Tendou’s smile is bitter that time and he proudly states he’s going to stop the next one.

Tendou is rotated out on the next point. Wakatoshi stifles a chuckle at Tendou’s pout when the man sulks off the court. When he goes in again, he’s on Wakatoshi’s side of the court. Wakatoshi watches him from his place in the back. Tendou almost stops Hinata, but the other feints it over. 

It’s interesting, Wakatoshi thinks. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Tendou was a player for some kind of league. One of the smaller ones, at least. 

Wakatoshi is the first to leave,  ready to begin the long walk home,  but it’s still almost an hour later. Some of the students take his leave to make their own. He heads into the locker room to take a quick shower. He changes into an old high school sweater and sweatpants. They’re warm and well-worn. One could never to doubt the comfort of old clothes. Wakatoshi would wear them more often if they didn’t make him look like a mess. His hair is still damp when he exits the locker room, checking his phone.  He’s at the door when a voice calls for him.

“Ushiwaka! Wait up!” Tendou shouts.

Wakatoshi stops and turns. Tendou skips down the hall. He hasn’t showered, but he changed and there’s a backpack over his shoulders. Tendou grins when he sees Wakatoshi stop, slowing to join him at the door. 

“You hungry?” Tendou asks. Wakatoshi hums and nods. Tendou walks backwards into the door to open it and holds it for Wakatoshi to go through. They step out onto the sidewalk. “Got plans?”

“Not really. There’s a cafe near my apartment,” Wakatoshi says. “I normally go there.”

“Wanna get some food at the dining hall?” Tendou says. He points to the building in question. He digs into the side pocket of his bag and pulls out an old wallet. He takes out his college ID card. “It’s pretty good for school food.”

Wakatoshi frowns. “Do you not have to pay extra?” he asks. 

Tendou giggles and puts his wallet away, fiddling with the card in his hands. 

“We get three meals a day. Roommate’s cooking for dinner, so don’t worry,” Tendou explains. Hesitance flashes over his face and he looks off to the side where a group of students walks to the tennis courts. “If you don’t want to or you’re not hungry, it’s fine, of course, just figured I’d offer since you have ta’ walk so far to get off campus…”

The expression doesn’t suit him, Wakatoshi thinks. His stomach growls as he tries to put his words together. Tendou looks back to him with surprise that dissolves into a gleeful smile.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Wakatoshi mutters. Tendou laughs, light and happy, and bumps Wakatoshi’s shoulder with his fist. 

“C’mon! The sandwiches are super good when they’re fresh!” Tendou says. 

Wakatoshi nods and follows as Tendou hops along the sidewalk towards the building. His backpack has a bunch of pins stuck into it. Bright colors, phrases, and a few characters from shows Wakatoshi vaguely recognizes. There’s a small rainbow colored one in a cluster. Wakatoshi should ask where he gets them. He’s been thinking  about buying a few of them, even if he put them on the backpack he rarely used any more.

The dining hall is large and spread out. The line is short and most people are already sat at tables, settled in for their lunch. Tendou wraps his hand around Wakatoshi’s wrist as they enter the hall. He tugs Wakatoshi along gently as he scans his card and steps into the queue.  Tendou grabs a small box with a salad inside. He tells Wakatoshi to take anything he wants. Wakatoshi still only picks up a sandwich and drink. He glances at the kitchen staff milling about behind the counter. They don’t glance up but Wakatoshi still feels like he’s doing something wrong. Tendou’s fingers stay looped around his wrist. He doesn’t seem to notice. 

Tendou leads them through the grid of tables and seats  with practiced ease. He stops at a booth tucked away near the windows. He lets Wakatoshi pick his side, letting go of his wrist to do so, and slides into the other seat. His backpack gets caught. He grumbles and kicks it under the table. Wakatoshi  watches him shift to get comfortable. His legs hit Wakatoshi’s under the table. Tendou jumps and frantically apologizes. 

Wakatoshi frowns and shakes his head, dismissing it. Tendou hesitates again before relaxing.  Wakatoshi decides to bypass any awkward small talk by unwrapping his food and digging in. He knows Tendou watches him for the first few seconds before popping the lid off his salad bowl.  Wakatoshi can feel Tendou’s legs bouncing under the table. He ignores it and the way it’ s endearing . Warmth settles into his chest and he hides a smile by drinking his soda.

Tendou starts talking about the dining hall system and how it doesn’t help his habit of staying up late.  Something about meals per day resetting at a certain time. About when he’s able to get his coffee and when he usually wakes up. Wakatoshi can’t entirely relate.

“\--But at that point you’re up and there’s nothing else to do about it, y’know?” Tendou says. He looks back at Wakatoshi, smile in place.

“Not really,” Wakatoshi says. Tendou cocks his head to the side. “I’ve never had trouble with sleep. And I don’t like coffee.”

“Really? How are you awake all day!?”

“I’m not up at midnight, usually.”

“Eh, got me there.”

T endou looks out the window, head propped up in his hand. 

“Do you have any plans when you get home?” Tendou asks. Wakatoshi glances up at him. Tendou shrugs. “I have classes all afternoon. I’m just curious what a big shot sports star gets up to after practices.”

Wakatoshi takes another bite of his sandwich as he thinks. He checks the clock on his phone.

“Probably to a shelter,” Wakatoshi answers. He still has more than enough time to get there and back before late. Tendou leans forward curiously. “I’ve been thinking about adopting a dog. There’s one downtown. I filled out the application yesterday.”

“Do you have a picture?” Tendou asks eagerly.

Wakatoshi nods and picks his phone up again. He pulls up the shelter site he left open in his phone’s browser.  He had found a dog—a Bernese mountain dog, the site claimed—that was on the older side but not lazy. An adult female that was passed around foster homes.  He turns h is phone  around to show Tendou. Tendou leans even closer to squint at the screen. 

Tendou coos and puts a hand to his mouth. 

“Aww, you have to let me meet her!” Tendou says, popping up and back into his seat. “Do you know if you’ll have her by Friday?”

Wakatoshi  shakes his head. “No, ”  he says. “There’s still extensive paperwork.”

“Gimme your phone.” Tendou hold out his hand and makes grabby motions. Wakatoshi hands it over without hesitation. Tendou’s eyebrows shoot up when the phone hits his palm. “I’m… I’m gonna put my phone number in, that okay?” 

Wakatoshi hum s agreement and takes another bite of his sandwich.  Tendou grins and taps away at Wakatoshi’s phone. He hands the phone back and Wakatoshi glances at the new contact. Tendou put a red devil emoji at the end of his name. Wakatoshi doesn’t comment on it and puts the phone face down on the table again.

“You gotta text me so I can meet her. You can’t just show me that cute a picture and not let me,” Tendou says. He fidgets in his seat and smiles when Wakatoshi nods. “When you get her, and if you’re ever downtown, I know some of the best spots for dogs. Don’t have one, but I pet them a lot.”

Tendou doesn’t fill the silence with chatter. He hums to himself as he eats. Wakatoshi had thought the humming was something for the shows, a filler noise. Tendou seems to make noise regardless. Not to say Wakatoshi minds it, he finds it endearing like the leg bouncing. Tendou’s leg bumps against his every so often. Wakatoshi doesn’t comment and Tendou doesn’t notice. 

Tendou insists on walking Wakatoshi to the edge of campus, wishing him luck on getting his dog soon so Tendou could meet her. Wakatoshi says he’ll do his best. It makes Tendou laugh. Tendou waves as he runs back across campus. Wakatoshi stops to put his earbuds in and starts the walk home. 

On Friday, the team has a  meeting before practice that the college has been honored to host them. A bunch of  other  pleasantries  about  their use of the gym.  Practice proceeds as normal. They run the plays they’ve been working on  with mostly successes. It’s cathartic having everything work out in a seamless streak. They wrap up later than usual, late enough that the members of the college team wander in and wait along the walls of the gym. Wakatoshi recognizes a few from the times he’s stayed later in the other gym. Most of them he doesn’t. Most of them are gawking as the team has their concluding meeting. Promises to return to their home gym, which would have new floors.

There’s already a game going when he, Hinata, Kageyama, and Bokuto walk in. Hinata apologizes to the people that greet him. They wave him off and the four of them rotate onto the court, then stay. Wakatoshi sees Tendou come in, again. He’s hard to miss, even if some of the students also have some wild hair colors. He joins the line and comes in on Wakatoshi’s side of the court first. His greeting is bright when they end up next to each other on the net.

When the second set wraps up, there’s a knocking on the doors. The college team and their coach walks in. The older man introduces himself and asks if his team could join them, as it was the national team’s last day there. 

Hinata welcomes them, all bright smiles and handshakes and bows. Wakatoshi catches Kageyama’s eye as Bokuto joins the younger. Kageyama rolls his eyes and announces that they’d  have to rotate pros in and out, too, to make sure everyone got fair court time. Bokuto agrees and lines it up so he and Wakatoshi rotate out first. The team joins the line. Wakatoshi watches carefully to be sure no one shoves anyone out of the way. The team was obviously eager, but they could wait like the rest of the students had. 

Wakatoshi rotates out without protest, but Bokuto complains. Wakatoshi spots Tendou sitting against the wall with one of the college players standing over him. Tendou has taken to sitting himself next to Wakatoshi’s water bottle. Wakatoshi thinks it’s an interesting way to get his attention. That was assuming Tendou didn’t already have it, but Wakatoshi figures Tendou still doesn’t know. 

Bokuto whines and goes off to get his own water bottle, placed somewhere on the other side of the court. Wakatoshi sees some of the waiting team members slowly move to follow Bokuto. He wouldn’t be sulking for long. 

Tendou perks up when he sees Wakatoshi walking over but doesn’t do anything else but smirk. Wakatoshi raises his eyebrows. He walks over and is picking his bottle up when he hears a choking noise to his left. He glances over at the college player,  who’s staring at him  with his mouth half open. The player turns away sharply, hacking and coughing. 

“Are you okay?” Wakatoshi asks, concerned as the player waves him off. Tendou giggles. “Do you need water?”

“He’s fine Ushiwaka!” Tendou assures. He puts his chin on his folded up knees and takes on a very self satisfied and scheming grin. “This is my roommate, Goshiki. Have I mentioned him?”

Wakatoshi frowns as Goshiki refuses to look at him as he catches his breath. 

“Something about him cooking the other day,” Wakatoshi mutters. Tendou brightens and nods eagerly.

“He’s a big fan of yours! Been dying to meet you!” Tendou says. He looks over at Goshiki. “Ain’t that right, Tsutomu? He was just telling me about how he has no idea how to introduce himself to you. This solves that, right? Just stop dying, c’mon man.”

Goshiki kicks at Tendou’s leg while he breathes in deep. Wakatoshi hides his grin by taking a big sip from his bottle. He wipes his mouth and turns to Goshiki. He leans against the wall and waits. He still didn’t understand why people were so nervous around him. The black haired player clears his throat one more time with finality and straightens himself. He bows at the waist.

“Goshiki Tsutomu, pleasure to meet you, Ushijima!” he says, loud and unrestrained. Tendou giggles again and a few people glance over.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi, nice to meet you,” Wakatoshi replies. Goshiki stands back up and there are borderline stars in his eyes. He has a clean bowl cut, cut just above his eyes. Wakatoshi searches for something to ask. “Do you play opposite?”

Goshiki somehow stands up even straighter. “No not yet! I’m still learning to put more strength behind my spikes,” he says. He puts his hands on his hips and grins. “I plan to be the ace of my team in a year.”

“Mm, sounds good,” Wakatoshi says. He has no idea where to take this. He glances at Tendou, who continues to grin up at him, entirely pleased with the events unfolding. “I don’t know much about the team here. Being an ace anywhere is ambitious, though.”

“I’m confident.”

Goshiki looks like he instantly regrets the words when they come out of his mouth. Tendou snorts unattractively and covers his mouth. Goshiki snaps a glare at him.

“Confidence is good,” Wakatoshi says. The stars in Goshiki’s eyes are back in an instant. It reminds Wakatoshi of high school. Wakatoshi nods to the court. “Are you going to play?”

“Ah—well, yes, that’s the plan,” Goshiki says. He looks behind him as another set of students rotate on and off. “I was um… I was really hoping to play with you, actually.”

Wakatoshi raises his eyebrows and hesitantly nods. He says, “I’ll be back on in a few rounds, but you’ll need to get in line before that. There are a lot of you, but not enough for four teams.”

“You should probably warm up, Tsutomu,” Tendou jumps in. “If you fuck up in front of your idol, I will laugh at you endlessly.”

Goshiki’s face goes bright red as Tendou called Wakatoshi his idol. The player nods stiffly and marches off to where people are warming up on the second court. Tendou sighs and knocks his head back against the wall. Wakatoshi hesitates a bit before he sits next to him. He still had a while before he was put back on the court, if the current scoring streak continued. 

Tendou bumps against him with a lopsided smile and arched eyebrow. Wakatoshi frowns and takes another sip from his water bottle.

“Well? How was it meeting you number one fan?” Tendou asks, drawing the words out teasingly. Wakatoshi rolls his eyes. Tendou laughs again. “What? Don’t believe me? He’s been following your games since late high school! I swear, I had to console him when you lost to Karasuno that last year at nationals. He went through an entire tissue box on his own!” At Wakatoshi’s look, Tendou just grins wider and leans further into him. He lowers his voice. There’s a bit of hesitance as he continues. “He has… one of those straight-guy crush on you, but like—it’s a big one.”

Wakatoshi grimaces. That’s what it reminded him of. He could practically remember all the awkward exchanges with his underclassmen in his third year. He had been fairly sure they were all crushing him in some capacity, and either naive or too stubborn to admit it. 

Tendou’s eyes opened wide and his mouth opened in bemused realization.

“Ooh! What’s that look mean?” he says. “Has it happened before? I bet it has, oh my god, tell me!”

“Mm,” Wakatoshi grumbles. He’s cringing in second hand embarrassment from the memories. He drops his forehead into his hand and Tendou giggles. Tendou shifts down to meet Wakatoshi’s ducked eyes. “Most of the team in my last year of high school.”

Tendou looks like he just won something as he moves back into his own space and throws his head back, laughing loud and  uncaring. Someone makes a spike in the game. The following uproars keeps Tendou from drawing attention to the two of them. He has the sense to cover his mouth with his hands as his shoulders shake.

“What was the worst one?” Tendou asks. He rests his shoulder against Wakatoshi and ducks his head to keep an air of privacy. Wakatoshi feels comfortable warmth flow through him. He sighs and resigns himself to answering whatever Tendou asked if it meant the redhead wouldn’t move. Tendou pokes his side when he takes too long to respond. “C’mon, c’mon~! Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“I think it was one of the setters,” Wakatoshi says after a moment of thought. Tendou goes silent to listen. Wakatoshi shivers as he recalls one of the many times he caught the setter borderline staring at him when they changed. “He was our starter in his second year, my third. He would never look me in the eyes outside of practice or a game. He was very respectful, which is only weird because he hated everyone else.”

“Aww!” Tendou coos. He pokes at Wakatoshi’s cheek. “You were his gay awakening. You gave him a soul.”

Wakatoshi snorts and it makes Tendou giggle again. Tendou prompts for more stories and Wakatoshi tells him about one of the first years in his last year. Libero in training, would stare whenever not actively doing something. Went bright red when Wakatoshi asked if he would help clean up the gym when practice ran late. 

Wakatoshi is called over to go back in soon after. Tendou reluctantly lets him leave. Wakatoshi shakes his head to clear it of old memories and steps onto the court. He sees Goshiki about to be rotated in on the other side and gives the man a curt nod. 

Goshiki goes bright red and his hands are shaking when he nods back.

The extra practice runs especially late that Friday. They take a break for some food that the coach of the team ordered. Wakatoshi doesn’t question why they haven’t been kicked out yet, why other sports teams haven’t come looking. More students come and go. Wakatoshi assumes they must be some of the other sports teams, looking to play with professionals regardless. 

Wakatoshi takes his time off court sitting next to Tendou. Enough people get there that they can open the second court, though. Tendou dismisses his worried expression when Hinata announces as much and says he has classes to get to, anyway. Wakatoshi realizes he’s never asked what Tendou is studying when the man jogs out of the gym. He waves the whole way out, of course. 

Wakatoshi doesn’t notice the time passing nearly as much since he doesn’t have to hold back as much against the mostly college players on the other side of the court. Kageyama seemed to realize it, too, and quickly claimed a spot opposite Wakatoshi on the second court. It’s fun. Especially when one of the players stuffs Kageyama’s attempted dump, and when Goshiki puffs up his chest after a spike, then promptly deflates with a red face when he meets Wakatoshi’s eyes. 

Before he knows it, it’s eight p.m. He only notices when he checks his phone during a timeout. He calls the time over to Hinata and Bokuto on the other side of the court. Fear and panic floods Bokuto’s face and he screams. Hinata jumps a few feet in the air in shock. He’s a scrambling mess as he gathers all his things and rushes out of the gym. Kageyama walks up next to Wakatoshi. Bokuto was probably late for something with Akaashi, Kageyama offers. Wakatoshi has to agree. It was close to the only reason Bokuto would leave without elaborate goodbyes. 

Some of the students start to dissipate, too. Wakatoshi takes his opportunity to leave. He shakes hands with the team’s coach  when the older man approaches him to thank him for his time. He also wave s to Goshiki, if only to see how e cstatic it makes him look.  He takes a quick shower and changes into lounge clothes again.

There are street lights on campus. It makes finding his way out much easier than he worried it would be. Only one or two students are out and about at this time. Wakatoshi wonders if they’re all in classes. If Tendou was still in classes. If he was, when did he get out in relation to when he went live? Did he even get time to get any work done? Wakatoshi remembers he now has the redhead’s number. He’s aware of all that intends, at least he is now because he’s thinking about it. His face warms against the cold as evening sets in. He digs his phone out of his bag. 

Wakatoshi types out a message.

> ME: It’s Ushijima. When do you get out of classes? It’s getting late.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI 😈:  why hello there ushiwaka!!! 
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: i get out around  ten , why do you ask?

W akatoshi relaxes a bit. An hour of down time wasn’t too bad.

> ME: I just left the gym. 
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: woahhhh, now that’s late!! did games run that long
> 
> ME: Yes. Some other student athletes joined us. 
> 
> ME: When I told everyone the team, Bokuto ran out screaming.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: 0.0 is he okay?
> 
> ME: As far as I know. I think he was late getting home to his boyfriend.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: uh oh he’s in the dog house~
> 
> ME: I doubt it. They’re both too smitten for it.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: “”smitten””
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: cute
> 
> ME: What?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: it’s a cute word choice, ushiwaka

Wakatoshi looks up to wait for the crosswalk light to change.  He only goes back to his phone once he’s crossed the street, counting his steps. 

> ME: I meant to ask. What are you studying? You never have morning classes.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  that is a choice, and a very wise one if i say so myself
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  i study baking :D

Wakatoshi frowns and furrows his eyebrows. 

> ME: You’re going to be a chef?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  the dream is to make chocolates, candies, the like
> 
> ME: Sounds difficult. I don’t know much about cooking.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  ahahah! not cooking, my dear ushiwaka!! baking, very different
> 
> ME: Is it?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  very very different
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  getting yelled at, brb
> 
> ME: Are you texting me during class?

Wakatoshi puts his phone away when Tendou stops replying. The cafe is closed when he passes it. He stops to think if he still has some food left in the fridge. He’s pretty sure he has old chinese food. As in, a few days old. He didn’t want to stop anywhere else for food. He wanted a full shower and some time to unwind before Tendou started the stream. He heats up and eats his food quickly. 

Close to nine, Tendou starts replying again.

> TENDOU SATORI😈:  annnd im back!

W akatoshi frowns.

> ME: Aren’t you still in class? You said you’re out at ten.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  on my way to the next one, dont worry!
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  im very studious
> 
> ME: Mm.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  >:0 is that doubt i sense!?
> 
> ME: Yes.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  points for honesty and but hey!! im a respectable student
> 
> ME: Mm.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  >>:0
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  going into class now, like the respectable student i am
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈:  talk to you later

Wakatoshi smiles to himself and puts his phone away. He takes a long shower, letting the hot water soothe his overworked muscles. He probably should not have stayed that late. He hadn’t realized he was as tired as he was until he was standing in the tub.  It wasn’t even brain tired, it was just body tired. Relaxed. He should to warm down stretches, he tells himself when he climbs out of the shower. He dries off and changes into his high school sweatshirt and loose old sweatpants that end above his ankle. 

He sets himself up in the living room. He turns on the cheap lamp next to the couch and pulls curtains shut on the windows  so city lights stay out. He puts his laptop on the coffee table. On second thought, he puts the lube and tissue box from his bedroom next to it. He sits on the floor with his back towards the couch. He pushes the table forward so he has more space to stretch. He puts on faint music and falls into the rhythm of stretching. 

The ache in his limbs settles deeper in the best possible way. Like after intense tournament days. He guesses the exertion of the day was similar to that of a tournament. Non stop games even if he wasn’t going as hard as he could. He felt like he could doze for a full day. He might  give in to that  on Saturday.  He wanted to watch the stream, though. It outweighed the bone tiredness. 

Close to eleven, he closes his playlist and opens up the website.  He leans his forearms on the low table, scooting his hips back so he doesn’t have to hunch over. It puts his face close to the screen. That’s not a complaint. 

The stream turns on promptly at eleven.  There’s no red piece of paper. The feed shows Tendou adjusting the camera view in a different setting to his bedroom. The walls are white, but that’s all Wakatoshi can see as Tendou roughly and abruptly angles the camera towards himself. 

“Apologies, apologies,” Tendou says as the chat lights up with confused greetings. “Last minute venue change, so unprofessional, very sorry.” 

The camera wobbles a few more times before Tendou steadies it. Tendou’s head and collarbones take up the screen.  He says his hellos and takes a few steps back. He crouches in front of the camera, which is placed on some kind of counter. The motion lets the camera see the rest of the room. 

It’s a bathroom. The display frames a wide shower pressed into the corner of the room. Tendou rests his chin on the counter just in the edge of the frame. 

“I smell like shit,” Tendou says. “And I’m very fucking pent up right now! Remember when I mentioned hot guys just… all over the fucking place?” Tendou stands back up. He strips off his shirt—the same one he was wearing earlier that day. “Very, very distracting. Been getting up on time for it and everything. By the time I get home, though, any horniness is gone, fucking died in my lecture.” 

He’s rambling. Wakatoshi still finds himself hanging on every word through the screen. Tendou slides his pants down without fanfare.

“Blah blah blah, awkward boners, never caught, though.” Tendou turns around to turn on the shower. The water is loud through the microphone. Tendou raises his voice to be heard. “And… fucking and, it looks like one of ‘em’s gay. I might be lonely, but hot guy is hot guy, and hot guy is hotter when he could be interested in you. The bar is on the floor.” Tendou hums and turns back to the camera, checking the chat again as tips roll in. “More about him? Hmm. Tall. Built as fuck. Dark hair. Real nice.”

W akatoshi isn’t self centered enough to picture himself in that place. Not initially at least. Wakatoshi is dense, he knows this, but not that dense. Warmth spreads through his chest and his face. The description was vague, and Wakatoshi had no idea who Tendou ran into on a day to day basis. It had to be, right?

“Anyway,” Tendou continues. He leans over to the camera again, grinning and eyebrows high on his forehead. “No requests today, I’m afraid. I’m gonna get myself off, then--” He lifts a different suction cup dildo up to the camera. “--I’m gonna fuck myself hard. You’re just gonna get the pleasure of watching it, got it? Last chance to say something I’m gonna see before I start.”

W akatoshi types in his tip and connected message, as Tendou rapidly answers questions and replies to comments. 

> _**miracleboy tipped 200!** _
> 
> _**miracleboy:** _ Looking forward to it.

That was an awkward message, wasn’t it? Wakatoshi winces at himself. 

“Miracle, again, thanks a bunch,” Tendou says when he sees the message. His grin is a bit overly sweet, Wakatoshi notices. Maybe he just knows the difference now. That’s a staggering thought. “Glad you’re gonna enjoy it, sweetheart.”

Tendou replies to a few more things. Then he steps away and places a towel along the floor in front of the shower. He pulls the shower curtain entirely out of the way. He looks over his shoulder, wiggles his ass in front of the camera with a stupid wink. He climbs into the running shower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank yall so much for the support <3  
> i don't reply to many comments because i'm awkward about praise, but they really mean a lot


	6. shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little shorter this time but about 80% porn
> 
> real talk tho how can some ppl write 4000 words of fucking, i feel like im constantly padding it out,,,,

It’s somehow more intimate to watch Tendou wash the gel out of his hair than it is to watch him get off. Not exactly more embarrassing. Wakatoshi feels like he’s intruding as Tendou work his hands through his hair under the shower head. Tendou pushes his hair back when he’s satisfied with it. He leans against the wall of shower behind him, facing the camera.

The camera doesn’t pick up details. Steam forms in the air as Tendou runs his hands up and down his body. One traces up, across his chest and up his neck, into his hair. The other goes over the crease of his hip, around his semi and to the tops of his thighs. He spreads his feet some, moving his hand back along his inner thigh. He rolls his head back as he drags his hand up the underside of his dick. He hisses quietly, barely audible above the drum of the shower. His grip tightens around the head and drags it down his shaft hard. He whimpers and his back arches slightly.

Wakatoshi decides he definitely feels like he’s intruding but at this point he couldn’t look away if he wanted to. Tendou isn’t looking at the camera. His eyes are shut and his mouth hangs open. It makes Wakatoshi feel like he’s only a voyeur. That’s all he has been, he realizes. He doesn’t hate the thought.

Tendou takes his pleasure without hesitation, without teasing, and without any drawn out whines or motions. He lowers his hips, thighs tensing and thrusting hard into his circle of his fist. His free hand leaves his hair to grasp at one of the bottles on the small shelf in the shower stall. Wakatoshi vaguely recognizes it. Tendou lets go of his dick to squeeze some of the lube onto his palm. His hips move to chase the friction. His dick twitches in the air.

Wakatoshi wants to grab it himself. He’s never touched another person but he figures it can’t be that much difference. For now, he puts some lube in his hand and tugs down his pants to mid-thigh.

Tendou puts the bottle back on the shelf with a shaking hand. His lubed fingers disappear behind him. He groans as he slides them into himself. The knot in Wakatoshi’s core jolts at the sound. Tendou continues his pace with his free hand. He runs his thumb along the underside of the head, hips moving away from the touch. He holds his hand at the base and thrusts unevenly.

“Ooh, fuck ah, shit—oh my god,” Tendou hisses. His spine arches. “Go—Gonna fuckinnng--”

Tendou’s voice cracks and his legs shake as he cums onto the shower floor. He doesn’t stop stroking. He whimpers his way through over stimulation, grunting and cursing under his breath. Wakatoshi grabs the base of his cock as his core tightens abruptly from the visual. Tendou thrashes against his own touch. The hand behind him pulls away and slams onto the wall beside him, clenched tight into a fist. One of his legs slides further away.

Wakatoshi worries for a second that Tendou was going to fall, but Tendou stops his stroking as suddenly as he started it and slumps against the wall. His dick his hard again already, hanging at half mast between his spread thighs. He catches his breath with his head tossed back. The water washes away any cum that might have landed on his skin. He holds that hand up to the water to rinse it clean.

Wakatoshi barely has time to work up to his own pace again by the time Tendou starts moving.

Tendou groans as he leans out of the shower, reaching out of frame and retrieving the dildo he flaunted earlier. He grins at the camera for a moment and holds the toy up to his face. He sticks his tongue out and drags it up the side of silicon. He licks over the head slowly. Wakatoshi groans, shutting his eyes forcefully and curling in on himself. Tendou’s moving again when Wakatoshi can look back at the screen.

The toy is stuck to the wall Tendou had been against earlier. It juts out just below Tendou’s hips. The redhead’s grin curls salaciously as he moves to stand in front of it. He moves his hips up slightly to press the toy between his thighs. It bumps against his balls as he moves back along it. Tendou giggles and squeezes his thighs tightly around it.

Wakatoshi is struck with image of those thighs around his hips or between them. Holding Tendou up as he rides or pressing against Wakatoshi’s ass as he fucks Wakatoshi as hard as he wants. Wakatoshi’s breath catches when he pictures the pace Tendou had taken earlier. It was intense. Wakatoshi hadn’t tried fingering himself since then and wonders if it’s something he’d be able to handle. Fuck, he hopes so. He grabs the base of his cock as the urge to cum hits him low in the gut.

Tendou releases the toy and runs a hand over his ass again, dipping fingers into himself. He moans quietly before he drops his hand. He holds the dildo steady as he positions himself in line with the toy. He looks at the camera again, grin delirious and eyes glazed over. He slowly pushes himself back and the toy slides into him. He keens until he stops at the base. It punches a moan out of him that has Wakatoshi biting his bottom lip painfully.

“Fuck~” Tendou laughs. His hips move restlessly. His thighs tense and twitch. His face pinches up and he groans. “God I bet he’d fuck like a train! Hnn--’d knock me out and I’d die a happy fucking man. Mmmnn!” Tendou leans forward, resting his hands on the small wall keeping most of the water in the tub. He holds himself up like that and starts moving up and down on the toy. He giggles breathlessly and tosses his hair out of his face again. “Ooh, if he’s a bottom? I’d—fuck… I’d swoon.”

Tendou dissolves into powerful moans and whines as he fucks himself back on the toy. His hips move relentlessly and Wakatoshi is again caught up in the mental pictures. Tendou would push Wakatoshi down and keep him there with his hips. He’d use Wakatoshi like the toy. It’s a fleeting thought but Wakatoshi groans into his hand and the tension snaps. Wakatoshi cums into his hand messily.

Wakatoshi’s face flushes. His hips twitch away from his hand. His vision blurs and his thoughts go fuzzy around the edges. He whines against his palm and hesitantly glances back up at the screen.

Tendou’s ass hits the shower wall consistently, slapping noisily against it. Moans and curses come from his mouth like a waterfall. The noises send sparks down Wakatoshi’s spin. Tendou puts one hand in his hair, the other staying on the low wall as he puts even more force behind his movement. Wakatoshi watches it breathlessly. Tendou mutters nonsense between his borderline screaming moans. His dick drips between his thighs. The substance is lost in the spray of water.

“Shit-shit-shit, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again,” Tendou manages. He smiles again and shuts his eyes. “Fuck...”

Tendou’s thrusts grow faster. His moaning gets louder. Wakatoshi loves it. Tendou’s back arches sharply and he tosses his head back with a loud whine. He doesn’t stop as he cums for the second time. He keeps moving as his dick throbs. A jet of cum hits the low wall near his hand. The rest drips onto the shower floor. It’s immediately washed away. Tendou’s thighs quake and he has to put both hands on the wall to hold himself up as his body trembles. His thrusts get uneven as he rides it out.

Tendou slowly pulls himself off the toy and drops to his knees. He slumps against the low wall with a happy sigh. His cheek lands in the cum and he winces. He pushes himself back to sit on his knees and rubs the cum off his face. He rests back on his palms with a huff.

Wakatoshi feels like he could maybe go again. His lower half is certainly interested. He rubs himself lightly as Tendou catches his breath and recovers. He replays the images in his head, Tendou pinning him down and taking what he needs. Tendou was obviously more experienced. Wakatoshi would take whatever Tendou would give him. Wakatoshi presses his hand to his mouth hard as his whimpers.

Tendou comes back to himself and slowly moves to stand. He stands in the spray of the shower for a few more moments, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his arms out over his head. Wakatoshi stops his stroking when Tendou turns off the water and steps out of the shower. Tendou is off screen briefly before he steps in front of the camera again, hips just cut off by the counter edge. He dries his face and hair off with a fluffy towel before leaning down to look at the chat again. Wakatoshi quickly sends in his tip. He goes more than usual since he didn’t tip during the show itself.

“Sorry if anyone wanted to go longer,” Tendou says with a lazy grin. Wakatoshi’s early orgasm burns in the back of his mind. “Maybe next week we’ll last the whole time, huh?”

Wakatoshi blushes and finishes putting in his tip.

> _**miracleboy tipped 600!** _

Tendou’s face brightens and he breathes a short laugh.

“Miracle, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to give you a private show at this point,” Tendou says. Wakatohsi tenses up again and his dick twitches. The chat explodes with question marks. “Yeah, I know I haven’t done them before, but I’m about to put this man out of a home… You’re really that interested?”

The chat erupts in ‘yes’ and ‘please’. A few demand it with bigger tips. The highest they go is 500. Wakatoshi doesn’t think that’s nearly enough for what a “private show” implies. He writes as much.

> **miracleboy:** The price should be higher.

“Aww! Miracle,” Tendou coos. He holds his chin in his hand. “What do you think it should cost, sweetheart?”

Wakatoshi frowns. The chat tells him to shut up and keep the price low. He doesn’t agree with that.

> **miracleboy:** Certainly more than a few hundred dollars. Surely your attention is worth more than that.

Tendou chuckles and shakes his head slightly.

“Real flatterer, aren’t you, sweetheart,” he says. He looks off to the side. “I’ll think about it, since I’ll need more money soon anyhow.” He shrugs. “We’ll see, don’t get your hopes up.”

Tendou begins the outro, exhaustion obvious in his movements. Wakatoshi sits through it patiently, even as his mind wanders down the route of getting fucked. He closes his eyes and sees the bandaged fingers tracing nonsense patterns along the side of his thigh. Tendou ends the stream with a wink and a waves.

Wakatoshi swiftly picks up his laptop and supplies and rushes to the bedroom. He struggles to flick the lights off as he leaves the main room. He completely takes his pants off and throws them into the hamper. He sets himself up on his bed, leaning back against the pillows. He puts the tissues next to the laptop and holds the bottle of lube in his free hand. He pulls up Tendou’s log of videos. He scrolls through until he finds something interesting. All the titles are blessedly to the point.

The one he selects has a thumbnail of Tendou laying stomach down on his bed, framed from the side with a pillow tucked under him. The title promises vocal pillow humping. Wakatoshi turns up the volume a bit as the video starts to play.

Wakatoshi sits up on his knees while he lubes up his fingers. He reaches behind himself. He rubs his first finger around his rim, pressing in carefully.

Tendou spreads his knees to lower himself against the pillow. He arches his back and drags his hand through his hair as he starts to grind into the fabric. His groans fill Wakatsohi’s ears. Wakatoshi slides his finger inside himself. He gasps and continues with hesitant motions.

Wakatoshi fits a second finger inside and shivers wrack his body as attempts to stretch himself. He forces his eyes open to keep watching the video. Tendou buries his face into the mattress when he makes a higher moan. Wakatoshi lets the sound wash over him, feels the tug deep in his gut, and hisses into his free hand.

Wakatoshi lets himself imagine what Tendou’s fingers would feel like in place of his own. They were thinner but longer. Maybe he would able to slide more inside Wakatoshi faster since they weren’t as thick. They would reach deeper and maybe hit Wakatoshi’s prostate. He hadn’t been able to touch it himself. But he had seen how Tendou reacted to when his was hit. Wakatoshi can barely imagine how good it must feel. He grunts and strains his hand a bit more to reach deeper. He finds nothing and huffs.

Tendou would be able to find it, though. Wakatoshi had no doubt that Tendou would find it in seconds. All teasing smiles and half-laughs when Wakatoshi makes embarrassing noises. Wakatoshi’s hips hitch. He presses his fingers in faster as the images plays out in his head, backed by Tendou’s muffled moans from the video.

Tendou could hold his hips down, probably. A hand pressed to Wakatoshi’s lower stomach to pin him still as the other stretched him out. Ignoring Wakatoshi’s hardness in favor of exploring his insides. Deft motions that would have Wakatoshi falling apart at the seams. Tendou would lean over him, resting his chin on Wakatoshi’s shoulder so he could speak into his ear. Whispers of praises and promises, breath washing over the skin of Wakatoshi’s neck. He’d drag his fingers out tortuously slow before slamming them back in with a third tucked under them.

Wakatohi shakes as he presses a third finger to his rim. He prods until he doesn’t immediately pull away and lubes his fingers again. He goes back in with all three, tight hiss escaping him. Tendou curses on the video. Wakatoshi watches as Tendou lifts the leg closest to the camera so he can show his leaking dick pressed to the pillow. Tendou looks at the camera with a blissed out smirk. He presses the pillow closer to himself and goes faster.

Wakatoshi moves his fingers faster, too. It punches the air out of his lungs before he even nears Tendou’s speed. Wakatoshi whimpers when he imagines what it would feel like. The noise surprises him. He drops his other hand to his cock. He doesn’t stroke immediately, gripping the base and whining when it jolts at the tiniest of stimulus.

On the screen, Tendou throws his head back and moans. It echos in Wakatoshi’s head, tightens the knot in his core. His fingers falter as his hips push into his hands. Forward into his palm and back onto his fingers. Tendou groans and curses, his own pace falling uneven. Wakatoshi fights to keep his eyes on the redhead as Tendou leans his upper body closer to the camera.

His face presses against the pillow, squashing his cheek adorably. His eyes rest half lidded and his smile is lopsided. He rubs his face against the fabric with a sweet hum. His eyes flutter and his hips twitch away from the pillow. He props himself back up onto his stomach like when the video began. He looks over his shoulder at the camera when he rapidly pushes himself to the edge with frantic movements. Wakatoshi moves his fingers a bit faster and groans. He slowly slides his hand up his dick, slicked from the pre that was already dripping.

Tendou’s eyes seem to roll back when his back arches.

“Fuck, feel so good,” he moans. It’s like a punch to Wakatoshi’s stomach. He fists his dick roughly as he speeds towards his climax. Tendou hunches over the pillow and Wakatoshi pictures himself caged in like that. Tendou keens. “Fuck, fuck. Y’ feel so good-- Gonna, fuck, gonna come, babe.”

It’s the nick name paired with another smirk to the camera that does Wakatoshi in.

Wakatoshi gasps suddenly as the tension snaps and he cums into his palm. His ass squeezes around his fingers. His vision blurs and he slumps back. His fingers move in further with the motion. Whimpering, he quickly slides them back out, ignoring the hollow feeling that follows. Tendou cums against the pillow. Wakatoshi watches only half-aware as Tendou rolls onto his back and catches his breath. Wakatoshi breathes in deep and does the same, even as his vision is still fuzzed around the edges.

The video ends shortly after. Wakatoshi closes the browser then snaps his laptop shut. He blearily cleans his hands with a grimace. He gets up on shaking legs to throw the tissues away and properly wash his hands.

In the bathroom, Wakatoshi meets eyes with his reflection. His cheeks are still flushed. It’s evident what he just, he thinks. He takes off his sweatshirt. He sniffs it and winces. He throws that in the hamper, too, when he returns to his room. He pulls on underwear for a scrap of modesty. He grabs his laptop and plugs it in for the night. He wanders out into the living room.

His phone sits on the counter where he left it. He’s still dazed as he picks it up and checks the team group chat. Excitement to get back to their home gym, and back to their late, late practices. At the top of his messages, though, sits his and Tendou’s earlier conversation. Wakatoshi realizes he never responded or checked in to see if Tendou got home alright. He knows that he got home, obviously, but he still should have asked earlier. And Tendou was still unaware that Wakatoshi enjoyed his streams.

Wakatoshi frowns and opens the messages while he wanders back to his bedroom.

> ME: Sorry this is so late, but did you get back to your dorm alright?

Wakatoshi yawns. Tendou probably went to sleep after a stream like that, he thinks. He’s about to plug the phone in and stash it in the drawer when Tendou responds.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: i am home safe and sound
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: im flattered you asked!!
> 
> ME: Yes, an hour later.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: eh i was busy, no worries!! still v sweet of you

Wakatoshi thinks he’ll never get over being called sweet and the warmth it sent through him.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: you headed to bed?
> 
> ME: Yes. I did warm down at my apartment and now I’m quite tired.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: aaaa me too, work takes a lot out of me

Wakatoshi is fairly certain he means the stream. Thinking of it as work is odd, but to each their own, Wakatoshi figures.

> ME: You work and attend college?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: gotta pay bills somehow yknow?
> 
> ME: I do. You should get rest, though. It is getting late.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: aww but all the good TV is on now
> 
> ME: I doubt that.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: have ya ever watched it?
> 
> ME: No. I go to sleep around this time.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: you should watch it some time! it’s terrible!!
> 
> ME: Maybe when I am not yawning.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: USHIWAKA!!! NOW IM YAWNING!!!!!
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: >:///
> 
> ME: Perhaps it is a sign.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: dont get smart with me
> 
> ME: You’re the studious student.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: pfffffttt

Wakatoshi smiles at his phone and rubs at his eye.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: fineeee i’ll sleep but only because you agreed im an excellent student.
> 
> ME: I said studious.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: same difference!!
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: gnight ushiwaka
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: feel free to text if ur in the area
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: i know youre probably super busy, but it’d be nice to hang out again
> 
> ME: I will.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: OH! and you better tell me when you get that dog

Wakatoshi chuckles.

> ME: Of course.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: :D epic
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: nightnight
> 
> ME: Goodnight.

The warmth floods through Wakatoshi as he clicks his phone off and stashes it away. He lays down with a smile still on his face. He likes Tendou, he thinks to himself. Even outside of sexual context.


	7. dog detour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no porn
> 
> another short chapter but i wrote this like three times and i'm still not happy with it buttttttt i'll never finish it if i keep putting it off
> 
> its dog time

Pochi the Bernese mountain dog arrives at Wakatoshi’s apartment midday on Tuesday. Wakatoshi skips afternoon practice to get her settled. The woman at the shelter mentioned that Pochi was a quick adapter to new environments. Wakatoshi just wants to be sure. His concern is unfounded. Pochi sniffs around the apartment for maybe half an hour, discovers Wakatoshi doesn’t scold her when she sits on the couch, and sprawls herself across the cushions with a beat-up toy from the shelter.

When Wakatoshi sits next to her to spend the rest of his free afternoon, she snuggles up to his side. Wakatoshi feels blessed. He pets over her shoulders as he takes out his phone. He opens the camera app and struggles to take a picture of Pochi, who follows his phone with her nose.

It’s at an odd angle and some of Wakatoshi’s face is in the corner. But Pochi is front and center. He decides it’s decent enough and sends it off. It goes to the group chat Hinata made with those on the team that had gone to high school at the same time, along with a few others like Akaashi—added by Bokuto the first day. The responses are immediate. Demanding Wakatoshi bring Pochi to practice, some muted praises for her, and flurries of emojis that Wakatoshi doesn’t try to decipher.

The picture also goes to Tendou. Tendou had been texting him fairly consistently through the weekend, even if the “good-morning” messages came in at noon or later. Wakatoshi liked the rhythm they fell into when texting. It was fun.

Tendou responds as Hinata and Bokuto attempt to set a date where they can all go meet Pochi in person. Wakatoshi isn’t involved in the conversation outside of being asked if certain days worked. Wakatoshi leaves Hinata and Bokuto to yell about times and opens Tendou’s response.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: AWWWWW!!!!
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: WHAT A BABEY
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: what’s her name
> 
> ME: Pochi.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: oh thats perfect
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: is she settling in good??
> 
> ME: Yes.

Pochi gets up to continue sniffing around. Wakatoshi wipes some fur off his pants.

> ME: She is going to look around more, now.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: understandable
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: the park near campus is p big if youre looking for a place to walk her!
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: lots of dogs around there, too
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: if she wants friends :D

Wakatoshi checks the group chat again where Hinata and Bokuto have firmly decided on Thursday afternoon. Wakatoshi tells them that they would be having it at the park Tendou mentioned then goes back to their conversation.

> ME: Are you free on Thursday?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: around 1, yeah
> 
> ME: Would you like to go to the park then? Hinata and Bokuto also want to meet Pochi.

There’s a small pause. Wakatoshi checks the chat again to make sure Hinata and Bokuto have agreed. They have. Bokuto has also invited Akaashi with no messages from the man himself.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: sure!
> 
> ME: I’ll let you know where we’re meeting. See you then.

Tendou continues to text Wakatoshi throughout the week. Memes and pictures of things he makes for his classes. Wakatoshi sends poorly framed pictures of Pochi from his walks.

Hinata pesters Wakatoshi during practice nonstop. Bokuto is a little more reserved about it, but he does bug Wakatoshi with Hinata for pictures when they’re cleaning up afterwards. Having company on his morning runs is weird at first but Wakatoshi doesn’t mind stopping whenever Pochi finds something to sniff at.

A few hours before they’re supposed to meet on Thursday, Tendou sends Wakatoshi another afternoon good-morning text. It includes a good-morning for Pochi. Wakatoshi finds himself smiling when he reads it.

Wakatoshi changes into jeans and his old high school sweatshirt. It makes him think of last Friday but he pushes the thoughts aside in favor of being warm. Pochi sits patiently when Wakatoshi puts her harness on. She’s been to the park before, but she never seems to get unexcited about going. She’s practically bouncing when Wakatoshi takes her out of the apartment.

In the park, Hinata finds Wakatoshi before he can find a place to sit. If Pochi is bouncing, Hinata is vibrating. Wakatoshi is forced to stop walking when Hinata lets Pochi jump her front paws on his shoulders and lick all over his face. Bokuto and Akaashi find them soon after. Bokuto is also vibrating. He and Hinata shower Pochi with as endless attention, until Akaashi prompts them to keep moving to the place they were supposed to meet up in.

Wakatoshi likes Akaashi. He’s polite and smart. He can easily carry conversations even with Wakatoshi and all his oddness about small talk. They aren’t exactly friends, but Wakatoshi thinks they’re close enough.

They find a bench and small cleared area for Pochi to run around in. Wakatoshi takes Pochi’s leach off her harness. She and Hinata run around each other in circles. Bokuto joins them after Akaashi is settled on the bench. They’re sickeningly sweet on each other. Wakatoshi feels like he’s intruding whenever he’s nearby.

Wakatoshi sits next to Akaashi on the bench when Bokuto jogs off. He quickly sends a text to Tendou to let him know where they were.

“How have you been, Ushijima?” Akaashi asks after a short while, pulling a book from his bag. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked. Pochi is a surprise. A good one, of course. She seems very sweet.”

“She is,” Wakatoshi says. “I was worried, but she’s fine.”

Akaashi smiles gently. That was another thing. Akaashi was devastatingly pretty. Wakatoshi would be a fool to think otherwise. He’s tempted to ask if Akaashi has had anyone straight-guy crushing on him, too. He doesn’t doubt it, although a very different brand of it. He doesn’t ask. It strikes him as a weird topic to bring from nowhere.

Wakatoshi’s phone goes off with a reply from Tendou.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: @ the park now, omw :D

ME: Alright. See you soon.

“Is there another person joining us?” Akaashi asks. Wakatoshi hides his jolt when he snaps his attention back to the man next to him. Akaashi makes no attempt to hide his smile. “It’s that or you’ve started using social media.”

“Another person,” Wakatoshi says.

Akaashi waits for Wakatoshi to continue. “From where?”

“The college we had practices at.”

“They must have made an impression. Did they practice with you?”

“Not often.”

Akaashi hums and goes back to his book. Wakatoshi feels like Akaashi has figured everything out with that small exchange. Logically, he knows it’s impossible. But Akaashi had an air about him that said he knew more than he should at all times.

Hinata squawks and lets Pochi knock him over. Bokuto laughs. Pochi abandons Hinata to lunge at Bokuto. She puts him on the ground, too. Akaashi chuckles as he watches Pochi sit on Bokuto’s chest.

Wakatoshi relaxes slowly, taking in the crisp air and the time off. It’s a process, getting used to Pochi, and a bit tiring. He watches the scenery. Trees barely starting to lose their leaves, a few families around, and some dog owners walking along the paths. There were a lot of dogs, Wakatoshi thinks. Tendou wasn’t wrong.

Wakatoshi sees Tendou approaching before Tendou sees them. He rounds a corner, earbuds in and glancing around. His hair is tied back from his face in a low ponytail and his cheeks and nose are flushed from the chill. He wears a large brown coat that falls past his knees and sneakers. Idly, Wakatoshi recognizes this is the first time he’s seen Tendou in person since Friday. Tendou spots them as the thought passes and grins widely. He skips over to the bench and slips the earbuds from his ears.

Tendou stands next to the bench and glances out at where Bokuto and Hinata roll around with Pochi on the grass. He giggles and Wakatoshi’s chest tightens. Tendou’s nose scrunches up cutely as he smiles at the scene. Wakatoshi is reminded of Friday yet again. He scoots closer to Akaashi to make room for Tendou to sit, and shoves the thoughts to the corner of his mind.

“Long time no see,” Tendou says. He plops himself in the empty space, stretching his legs out in front of him. He’s wearing a knit sweater and dark pants. The dimple on his right cheek is in full effect. “How ya been?”

“Good, you?” Wakatoshi replies immediately.

“A lil’ stressed with assignments and all.” Tendou sighs and slumps into the bench. He elbows Wakatoshi gently in the side, all sharp angles and mischief. “But nothing good dog cuddles can’t fix.”

Wakatoshi’s lips quirk up as he nods. In his personal opinion, Pochi was very good at cuddling.

Another dog and owner approach Pochi, Hinata, and Bokuto. The other dog remains on a leash while they and Pochi investigate each other. No one starts howling and no one is bitten. Pochi begins vibrating when the other dog is unleashed and she has another friend to play with.

Wakatoshi sees Akaashi lean forward to look across him at Tendou.

“Hello, you must be Ushijima’s friend,” Akaashi says. Wakatoshi assumes, yes, they are friends. It’s an odd thought to have occur to him then. Tendou perks up as he’s spoken to. He leans forward to shake Akaashi’s extended hand. “I’m Akaashi Keiji. Are you a student?”

“Tendou Satori. And yeah, culinary.”

Wakatoshi notices a sort of tension to Tendou’s shoulders when he leans back. Wakatoshi writes it down as nerves. He knows Akaashi can be quite intimidating.

Akaashi nods politely and returns to his book. Wakatoshi attempts to relax again but he’s very aware of Tendou pressed to his side and bouncing his leg. Tendou hums quietly in the lull of conversation. Tendou’s leg bounces in a constant rhythm. It helps Wakatoshi lose himself in the quiet afternoon atmosphere.

When the other dog leaves some minutes later, Hinata and Bokuto lead Pochi back over to the bench. Pochi runs up to Wakatoshi before noticing the newcomer and switching her attention to Tendou. Pochi borderline jumps into Tendou’s lap. Tendou doesn’t stop her, laughing and wrapping his arms around the excited dog. Wakatoshi can’t help but smile.

Hinata gushes about Pochi, all hand motions and noises that only Bokuto seems to understand. Wakatoshi still listens and thanks him when he gives Pochi compliments. Akaashi continues reading his book with no sign he was even trying to listen.

It’s nice to lose himself in the familiar dynamics. Wakatoshi would have to admit that he needed something like this. Something familiar after all the unfamiliars of getting used to having Pochi around. Akaashi is a welcome neutralizer to the raw energy of Hinata and Bokuto, especially as they feed off each other. Tendou is also a sort of constant, giggling with the writhing mass of dog in his arms. Wakatoshi looks over at him as the other three recall something from high school. Tendou meets his eyes and grins before Pochi licks over his face. Tendou barely reacts, just laughing it off and ruffling the fur behind Pochi’s ears.

They eventually get up and walk around the park a bit. Pochi happily sniffs the occasional passerby. Hinata walks next to Bokuto who grabs Akaashi’s hand as soon as they stand. The tension in Tendou’s shoulders drops slowly. Tendou hangs a few feet back with Wakatoshi and Pochi. It sparks that warm comfort in Wakatoshi. Wakatoshi keeps himself from smiling any more and instead watches his steps on the pavement, avoiding the cracks.

They reach downtown and wander the food and market stalls. Akaashi starts a conversation with Tendou about his studies. Tendou doesn’t say anything Wakatoshi doesn’t already know, but it’s still nice to hear. Bokuto and Hinata are thrilled at the idea of making sweets all day, especially getting paid for it. Bokuto is heartbroken when Tendou informs him that he’s not allowed to eat what he makes more often than not. Akaashi rolls his eyes fondly and Hinata whines that it’s a let down.

They sit on and around a low wall and munch on fried food from the stalls. They still had an hour before they had to report to evening practice, Wakatoshi notes when he checks his phone for the first time since messaging Tendou earlier.

Hinata hops onto the wall and holds his phone out unprompted. He grins broadly at the camera, around the food still in his mouth.

“Say hi!” Hinata sing-songs.

Wakatoshi reactively frowns and looks up at the camera. Bokuto grins and loops his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. Tendou leans into Wakatoshi’s side, throwing up a peace sign.

Hinata drops down off the wall and taps away at his phone. Bokuto keeps talking to Akaashi like nothing happened. Tendou feeds Pochi a piece of meat from his box. Wakatoshi watches Hinata pull up Instagram and open the photo to post.

“Ushiwaka, what’s your Instagram?” Hinata says.

“I don’t use one,” Wakatoshi says.

“What?!” Bokuto jumps in. “You had one in high school, didn’t you?”

“My teammates made it.”

“Gimme your phone.” Hinata moves closer to Wakatoshi and holds a hand out. Wakatoshi leans away.

“Why?”

“You’re probably still logged in!” Hinata sighs. “You still have the app, right?”

Wakatoshi has no idea if he still has the app installed. Hinata moves even closer and Wakatoshi hands his phone over with a grumble.

“Yeah, see? Here it is!” Hinata says, smacking Wakatoshi’s arm. He types it into his own phone before handing it back. “You got one, Tendou?”

“Mhm, here,” Tendou hums. He had his phone at the ready.

Wakatoshi frowns. He really doesn’t get the social media things. It makes him sound a lot older than he is, so he doesn’t say it often. Hinata perks up, copying the username down. Wakatoshi puts his phone away as Hinata proudly announces the post to be up.

Bokuto instantly takes his phone out to open it, and prods Akaashi to do the same. Tendou hums idly as he opens the post. He stays leaned against Wakatoshi as he does so, rocking back and forth gently. Wakatoshi watches a loud group walk by them instead. Bokuto gushes over Akaashi in the photo. Hinata coos over Pochi, who was sitting properly between Wakatoshi and Tendou.

Tendou stills and goes silent next to him. Wakatoshi glances over when Tendou leans away from him, back into his own space. Tendou stares down at his phone intensely, eyebrows furrowed together and mouth turned down.

Was something wrong? Wakatoshi wants to ask but he doesn’t want to needlessly draw attention to Tendou if it isn’t anything. Wakatoshi stays quiet as Hinata and Bokuto talk about what they would be doing in practice later.

Hinata leaves first, mentioning having to run back to his apartment. Wakatoshi waves as Hinata takes off down the street. Akaashi excuses him and Bokuto. He gives Wakatoshi another one of those sharp knowing smiles when they walk off.

Tendou abruptly stands up a few moments later. Wakatoshi jolts and looks up at him. Pochi barks quietly from the sudden movement. Tendou smiles guiltily and pets Pochi’s head to soothe her. There’s tension in his shoulders again, like when he first sat down on the bench. It seems worse. Wakatoshi frowns and tilts his head.

“Are you alright?” Wakatoshi asks.

“Hm? Oh yeah! I’m good, I’m good,” Tendou says. His laugh is nervous and he waves his hand dismissively. “Just realized how late I held you! You still gotta get home before practice, right?”

Wakatoshi nods. Tendou jams his hands in the pockets of his coat, look out into the crowds starting to form among the stalls.

“I gotta get going, too,” Tendou explains. “I got another class in a bit.”

“Ah. Good luck,” Wakatoshi says. He stands up and gathers the little trash from his meal.

Tendou snorts. That one was real. He grins up at Wakatoshi before he goes to skip away.

“Thanks! See you around, Ushiwaka!” Tendou chimes, waving until he was out of sight.

The comfort warmth shoots through him again but it’s bitter around the edges. Tendou seemed worried about something. Wakatoshi wasn’t going to force it out of him.

Pochi is drained when Wakatoshi stops by the apartment before he goes to evening practice. She eats her dinner and is sitting on the couch when Wakatoshi leaves again.

When Wakatoshi gets back, she’s passed out in her bed in the corner of the living room. Wakatoshi smiles to himself. He quietly goes about his business making dinner and watching television. His phone hasn’t been silent since Hinata tagged him in the picture. He reluctantly opens Instagram to get rid of the stupid red bubble.

Thousands of people follow Hinata’s post to his unused, mostly forgotten account. Wakatoshi likes the photo of all of them and Pochi. He then turns his attention to his account, as barebones as he left it. His profile picture is still one taken by Reon in their second year of Wakatoshi and a small plant from their dorm room. His bio is empty save for two lines.

> **Ushijima Wakatoshi**
> 
> “miracle boy” -miyagi magazine

Wakatoshi goes back to the photo and follows the tab next to Tendou’s face to his account. It’s full of pictures of things he’s made for class, selfies and pictures of Goshiki. Wakatoshi smiles and reads over his bio, hit with a wave of nostalgia.

> **SA*TO*RI**
> 
> he/him – monster rights 😈

Wakatoshi follows Tendou, clicking on the button that says “follow back”.

Slowly, the dots connect themselves.

Tendou had followed him when the photo was posted.

Following him meant Tendou likely opened his account, and saw second line—which Semi had insisted on adding.

The name he used for the cam site.

The name Tendou interacted with several times on stream.

Tendou wasn’t an idiot. He made the connection when they were sitting on the wall.

Wakatoshi feels a little sick.


	8. nerves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter today. we waste no time on miscommunication in this household.
> 
> dialogue and text-message heavy

There’s no good-morning text on Friday.

To say Wakatoshi is off at practice is an understatement. He misses a spike, entirely his own fault, for the first time in years.

The team tell him to shake it off. They blame it on him adjusting to the new member of his household. Wakatoshi doesn’t correct them, doesn’t say anything, really. He stays carefully quiet and in his own head.

He’s not… thinking, exactly. It’s more of a hazy, fogged out feeling. Static instead of anything coherent. He wants to put together a plan. He wants to figure out what he’s going to say in advance if Tendou asks him outright, or if he dances around the issue, or if he tries to ignore it entirely. Wakatoshi would go along with whatever Tendou decides. If he didn’t want to see Wakatoshi again, or if he blocked him, Wakatoshi would understand. Though he didn’t see how it was a big deal, he knew others think differently.

Wakatoshi feels off balance even walking around. He does what he needs to, regardless of how little he remembers it during the next task. He and Pochi loop the block he lives on. He eats half a meal. He goes to afternoon practice. He doesn’t miss another spike but he feels himself lagging behind. Like his brain isn’t keeping up with the movements his body makes on instinct. It’s dizzying.

He lingers in the locker room after practice. No one questions him but they express their concern. Hinata offers to dog sit. Sakusa mentions some of the medicine he keeps in his bag, for nerves or pain. Most just clap him on the shoulder and leave him to his own devices. He stands under one of the showers for a long time. He carefully runs his hands through his hair and savors the warm water soaking into his skin. It does little for the static in his brain. He gets home closer to eleven, hair still wet and bundled against the evening chill.

Pochi eagerly welcomes him but backs off when she gets the idea he’s not exactly in the attention-taking mood. Wakatoshi finishes his meal from lunch. He spends a good ten minutes standing in the hall to his bedroom, figuring out what he wants to do. He has an hour if he wants to watch the stream. He’s not sure he wants to. He wouldn’t get off, he knew that.

He didn’t want to be nervous about this. He wanted to have the confrontation or conversation and get it over with. He wanted to keep Tendou’s friendship, or what he could keep at least. He understood that friends didn’t normally get off to each other. He understood that Tendou had every right to be disgusted with him, to think him some rabid fan that took advantage of his pseudo-celebrity status. He hopes he’s allowed to explain himself.

He doesn’t exactly know why he’s so desperate to keep this friendship. He knows he likes Tendou. He likes the way he talks, the way he grins, and the way he cuts to the chase. He appreciates it. He wants it to help them get this situation over with.

Wakatoshi doesn’t change clothes. He set his laptop out next to him, open to the site, and loses himself in endless scrolling on Twitter. He doesn’t want to look at the app that got him in this situation. Was it too late to delete his account? The answer was yes, he dejectedly notes. The damage was done.

His phone buzzing with an incoming message snaps him out of his trance, quarter from eleven. He blinks for the first time in a while and rubs at his eyes as he clicks the notification without second thought. It opens the conversation left untouched since Thursday afternoon.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: yo
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: you get out of night practice around this time, right?

Wakatoshi sits up and pulls his knees to his chest. He curls his shoulders in over his phone. He turns the brightness down as the white of the messaging app shines too bright in the dark of his room. He debates what reply he should send, but he’s already opened the message. Tendou already has seen that he’s read it.

Wakatoshi lightly shakes his head. There was no reason to be nervous, he tells himself.

> ME: I get out around eight-thirty.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: wow my guess was way off lol!!

Wakatoshi thinks he should start the conversation. Would he seem weird if he mentioned the lack of text in the morning? It had only been a week since that pattern started. He thinks it would be weird to call out the change.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: soooo whats going on :?
> 
> ME: Nothing much, just got home.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: ooooooo out on a date or smth??
> 
> ME: No.
> 
> ME: I stayed late at practice.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: i’d say!!! geeze ushiwaka, do you ever get tired?
> 
> ME: I am tired now.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: thank god, not sure i’d believe ya if ya still had energy after that much running and jumping

There are ten minutes until Tendou is supposed to start streaming. Wakatoshi doesn’t want to lose the chance of this conversation. He wouldn’t be able to start one with any kind of grace.

> ME: Are you tired from your classes?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: eehhh a bit
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: its mostly end of the semester stuff
> 
> ME: I’ve heard exams can be rough.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: pfff if you don’t know what youre doing, yeah
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: but as weve discussed
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: i am an excellent student ;P

Wakatoshi finds himself smiling, losing some of the tightness in his chest.

> ME: Oh. How could I forget?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: any plans outside of sleeping tonight??

Wakatoshi glances at the laptop open next to him. The site is somewhat tasteful when on the dashboard of his profile. The ads are there, but the only preview on the screen is Tendou’s profile picture. It’s from the nose down, sharp grin and—peeking from the stretched neck of his shirt—equally sharp collarbones.

The nerves course through him, nauseating down too his core. Wakatoshi runs a hand over his face. He shakes the hand out to try to calm the jitters. He wants to—needs to run or do something. Something physical. Something to stop the static in his head. He responds left handed, waving his other hand in the air for some reprieve. Honesty, Wakatoshi thinks. It’s what he promised himself.

> ME: Not really. I might go for a run.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: whaaa??? i thought you were tired!!
> 
> ME: I am.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: then why go get more tired?!?!
> 
> ME: To do something.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: do what? If you don’t mind me asking
> 
> ME: Nothing in particular. Just

Wakatoshi looks at the clock again. Five more minutes. He can’t explain why he needs to move. It’s how he deals with the skin crawling haziness.

> ME: Anything to be moving. It helps calm me down.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: calm down??
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: is something wrong?

Honesty. Wakatoshi tugs at his own hair. This isn’t that big of a deal, Wakatoshi tells himself. He told himself from their first meeting that he would not make an ordeal out of it. It was common courtesy. Tendou didn’t seem particularly scared about it. Maybe he’s imagining it.

> ME: Nerves.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: ohh
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: there an upcoming game?
> 
> ME: No.

Three minutes. Wakatoshi thinks he should shut his laptop and go bounce a ball off a wall near the park. Until he stopped wanting to shake himself out of his skin.

One minute. Wakatoshi prepares to do exactly as he thought when his phone buzzes again.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: this is gonna seem rude if i’m wrong but just
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: go with it, ok?

Wakatoshi hesitates.

> ME: Alright.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: are you gay? or into dudes at least
> 
> ME: I am.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: okok
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: shit uh
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: fuck
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: does um
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: does satoshi mean smth to you?

Honesty.

> ME: Yes.

It’s eleven. The stream doesn’t go live on the dot as it has in the past. Wakatoshi clicks on the link anyway, placed on the site’s default “offline” screen. The chat is open. Some people complain.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: ok uh
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: so you know what
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: what my ummm job is
> 
> ME: Yes.
> 
> ME: If it makes you uncomfortable, I can delete my account. I don’t want to inconvenience you.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: hold up
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: a few more questions

Wakatoshi shifts to criss-cross his legs, hunched over his phone in his lap.

> ME: Okay.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: you ARE miracleboy, right? on the website?
> 
> ME: Yes.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: and you watched before we actually met
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: did you find me on purpose?
> 
> ME: Not at all. I was as surprised as you are. If it bothers you, I won’t bother you any more.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: hush up ushiwaka

Wakatoshi hushes. The chat begins whining, he notes from the corner of his eye. Emojis and a few tips asking where Tendou is, if there’s even a stream tonight. Wakatoshi isn’t sure himself, isn’t sure if he’d continue to watch if there is.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: are you trying to
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: just have sex with me? like… bc i do sex stuff for a living
> 
> ME: No.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: gonna need more words than that for that question
> 
> ME: Oh

Wakatoshi mulls over what to say. What would minimize damage and what would comfort Tendou. What was true and would hopefully clear whatever Tendou thought of him.

> ME: It wasn’t an intention when I met you.
> 
> ME: But

Wakatoshi sends the second message as fast as can. Tendou reads it but doesn’t start typing. Wakatoshi hurriedly gives his explanation. His face flushes as he taps away.

> ME: I kept speaking to you because I thought you were fun to talk to. I didn’t do it with any ulterior motives and I don’t plan to continue with those motives. I enjoy your company. I think you’re nice and interesting.

The stream changes from offline, to a “be back soon” screen. A message in the chat comes up from Tendou apologizing for the delay with an excuse about his roommate being nosy. Wakatoshi turns back to his phone as the bouncing dots indicate Tendou is writing back.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: ok

The following break between messages is stifling. The stream chat murmurs with impatience.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: FUCK
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: im calling you

Wakatoshi can’t respond before his phone is ringing. Wakatoshi jumps to his feet and begins pacing when he answers. He holds the phone to his ear and shakes his free hand frantically.

“Hello?” Wakatoshi mutters.

“You sure you wanna go run or something?” Tendou says. His chuckle is uneven and strained. “You sound dead on your feet.”

“Sorry. It’s nerves.”

“You said so.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just a weird… happenstance.” Tendou sighs. There’s a shifting from his side of the line. “Sorry I didn’t text you. This morning I mean. It’s—This all just weird, right? Like… what are the chances?”

Tendou’s laugh is forced and hard to listen to. Wakatoshi frowns and tugs at the bottom of his shirt.

Tendou keeps talking, “I’mmm—being weird about it, I know! I know I’m being weird, but I don’t think anyone can blame me considering fucking… Ushijima Wakatoshi has been watching me fuck myself for money! Not that like… you getting off is weird, it’s healthy, but it’s me that’s the weird part in the equation, yeah?”

“I don’t think so,” Wakatoshi says instead of keeping it to himself. Tendou goes dead silent. Wakatoshi hits his thigh with his palm a few times. “It’s an earning. I… It’s not ideal you figured it out like this. I uh-- I had planned on telling you at some point. I didn’t want to embarrass you if anyone overheard.”

“Thanks, Ushiwaka,” Tendou whispers. Fond warmth shoots through Wakatoshi. He takes a careful breath and grips the fabric of his sweatpants. Tendou chuckles. “Afraid I’m gonna have to probably embarrass us both here, though.” Wakatoshi glances at his laptop as the light coming from it changes. It frames Tendou’s bed like it did the first time Wakatoshi watched. Tendou isn’t in sight. The chat flies by. Tendou speaks quietly so the stream doesn’t pick it up. “Fuck there’s no good way to phrase it but uh… you saw the last stream. You’re not dumb. Do you—fuck—do you wanna go out some time? God that was horrible.”

“I would,” Wakatoshi says. He goes stock still, waiting for the punchline, waiting for the _psych!_ and the laughter. It hadn’t happened in high school, but there was no saying it couldn’t start now. “I would like that.”

Tendou laughs, loud enough that it comes through on the stream. It’s breathy and relieved and the kind of laugh Wakatoshi thinks is one of Tendou’s best.

“Okay, okay,” Tendou sighs. An echo comes through on the stream. Wakatoshi fixes his eyes on the screen. A shadow moves and a piece of clothing is thrown across the bed. “Okay. Cool. I mean—holy shit, what the fuck did I just… forget it, whatever. Cool… cool. Are you—are you watching the stream?”

“I have it open,” Wakatoshi starts. “If you don’t want me to, I can close it and you can… work.”

“This’ll either be really hot or really fucking awkward, okay? Stay with me here,” Tendou whispers. Wakatoshi draws his eyebrows down and hums to show he’s still listening. Tendou keeps his voice low as he moves into the edge of frame. The stream doesn’t pick up his voice but Wakatoshi hears it crystal clear. “How do you feel about… staying on with me while I stream?”

Wakatoshi flushes all over, but Tendou keeps talking.

“You can hang up if you’re uncomfortable,” Tendou says. “If you do, feel free to keep watching, too. I just--” Tendou breathes in and out shakily. “--Kinda been thinking about it for a bit. I’ll survive if you don’t want to, though.”

“Yes,” Wakatoshi mutters. “I would… Yes. I’d like to.”

Tendou hums and steps fully into frame, sitting down on his bed. One hand holds his phone to his ear, the other toys with the bottom hem of his top. He’s dressed in sports shorts and a long sleeve shirt.

“You ready, sweetheart?” Tendou says. His voice slips into the tone he uses on screen. The stream echos the voice on Wakatoshi’s phone. Tendou’s grin is wide, self satisfied and pleased.

Heat shoots through Wakatoshi’s core and he hurriedly pulls his shirt and sweatshirt over his head.

“Yes, one second,” Wakatoshi says quickly. Tendou laughs, tossing his head back and running a hand up his abdomen.

“Oh, something up?” Tendou asks, serious for a brief moment.

“I didn’t change when I got home,” Wakatoshi says. He sees a brief recognition flash across Tendou’s face before it’s smug and looking into the camera.

“Stripping already?” Tendou says, all teasing. “Eager?”

“Definitely.”

Tendou blushes. Wakatoshi shoves his worn jeans off and smiles faintly at Tendou on the screen. Tendou puts his hand over his face.

“Fuck, Us—sweetheart,” Tendou says. He looks towards his feet. “You’re all flattery, huh?”

“Is it flattery if it’s true?”

Tendou snorts unattractively and laughs into his hand.

“Shut up,” Tendou breathes, still smiling. “This is supposed to be sexy.” Wakatoshi sits back on his bed. It creaks under him and Tendou must hear it because his smile switches to a smirk. “One sec.”

Tendou mutes his end of the phone and leans into the camera. He puts a hand to the side of his mouth and whispers like its a big conspiracy.

“Hey everyone, sorry I’m so late,” Tendou says. “Sorry to do another no req stream so soon, but--” he waves his phone in the air, giddiness scrawled across his features. “--I have some company. You have two minutes to ask questions before I ignore you for the rest of this.”

Wakatoshi watches the chat explode and grabs his mostly empty lube bottle.

“Is it the guy I mentioned?” Tendou reads. “Perhaps. What’s his name? Not telling you that. What does he look like?” Tendou grins and looks right into the camera. Wakatoshi is pinned in place by it. It feels like Tendou sees him through the screen. “Tall dark and handsome~”

It’s cliché but it gets Wakatoshi. He rubs his hand over his red face and grumbles. Tendou answers a few more things as he scoots across the bed and grabs his earbuds. He plugs it into his phone and slips them into his ears. He sticks his tongue out and gives a ridiculous wink to the camera. He unmutes himself and it’s suddenly all much more real. Wakatoshi takes a deep breath that Tendou definitely hears. Tendou grins and lays back on his bed. He sprawls his legs out, reaching a hand down to slip under his shirt over his abdomen.

“Still there?” Tendou asks. Wakatoshi is sure this is Tendou’s way of giving him a final out.

“Yes,” Wakatoshi says. Tendou sighs and his body relaxes on top of his sheets. His shirt pulls up as he traces nonsense patterns on his stomach.

“Mm, good,” Tendou hums. He puts his phone down near his head, listening through his headphones and freeing up both of his hands. “I won’t lie to ya sweetheart, been thinking about this since I ran into you the first time. Deep voice, broad shoulders, killer jaw.” Tendou swoons overdramatically, arcing his back putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “Sweep me off my feet, sweetheart. Literally, please.”

Wakatoshi chuckles. It reminds him of the comments from pictures of the team asking them to snap people like twigs. Tendou grins and drags his hand down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts.

“I’ve got a pretty active imagination,” Tendou says. He thumbs the band and pushes it down slow and teasing. “Mmm, thought about following you into the locker room once or twice. Getting under the shower with you and putting us up against the wall.” He slides his hand under his shorts and over the bulge in his pants. Wakatoshi hips hitch into his palm. “Staying quiet so we don’t get caught by anyone coming in… biting marks into your shoulders and getting a handful of those _thighs_.”

Tendou trails off in a moan and arcs his back. His hand moves sharply under his shorts. Wakatoshi slicks his hand and hisses as he fucks into his fist. It makes a squelching noise that Tendou follows with a gasp.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Tendou breathes. “Like that idea? Groping you against the wall? Tucking myself up against you and grinding off on you?”

Wakatoshi does, more than he anticipated. His breath hitches and Tendou chuckles. Molten heat burns behind Wakatoshi’s navel. He strokes himself faster, feeling all to pent up suddenly. It’s different this way. More real. Wakatoshi is reminded of how little experience he actually has, how he can really only imagine what it would feel like to have Tendou pressed to him, chest to thigh. How it would feel to have someone else’s dick thrusting against his.

“Sounds like you do,” Tendou sing-songs. It’s light and teasing and Wakatoshi grasps for something he could say back. He didn’t want Tendou to be doing all the work, it felt unfair.

“I—fuck, I do,” Wakatoshi manages. It’s broken and cracks on a slight whine pulled from his throat. Tendou pushes his shorts out of the way. His cock juts out obscenely from his clothes. Wakatoshi whines again. “I… I’ve thought about it, too.”

Tendou tosses his head back dramatically and focuses his hand around the head of his dick, rapidly tugging at it. A moan punches out of him, desperate. Wakatoshi twitches in his hand. He wants to talk more, see if he can get another reaction like that out of Tendou. But Wakatoshi can barely think anything coherent. He doesn’t try to describe his fantasies, but they play uninhibited on his mind’s eye, clearer around the edges with Tendou’s voice in his ear.

Tendou cornering him in one of the back showers in the locker room, slipping through the curtain and kissing him breathless. Long fingers dragging down his back, pressing bruises into his thighs, hiking one up around Tendou’s hip. A hand trailing back and grabbing his ass, holding tight and tugging him even closer.

“God, oh my god,” Tendou drawls. His breath hitches and he thrusts into his hand. Breathlessly, he says, “’d fuck you on the wall so good, sweetheart. Fuck right between those pretty fucking thighs of yours.”

Wakatoshi moans before he can even try to stop it. He’s speeding towards the edge and helpless to stop it. He moves his hand faster, letting embarrassing noises leak out. Tendou responds eagerly, cursing under his breath and thrashing his legs across the bedsheets. Wakatoshi breathes in, shaky and terribly uneven. His pleasure fizzles along the edges, bright and blinding.

“Fuck,” Wakatoshi groans. His toes curl and his thighs tense. He fucks harshly up into his hand.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, fuck—sweetheart?” Tendou breathes. His voice strains at the end. “Y’ coming?” Wakatoshi whines. It feels weak coming out but Wakatoshi doesn’t quite mind. His free hand grabs his sheets with a death grip. “Shit, sound so good, baby.”

Wakatoshi cums into his hand, twitching all over and legs shaking. The hand with his phone falls to the side. He blinks against the spots that pop up in his vision. He fights to watch Tendou on the screen. In his ear, Tendou sputters and curses. The slick sound of his own hand echos around in Wakatoshi’s skull. Tendou’s breath catches and his back raises clear off the bed, legs kicking out wildly. There’s no moan as he reaches orgasm, only sharp breathing and cut off keening sounds. Tendou catches it all in his palm as he slumps back down.

The afterglow is warmer, settling soft in Wakatoshi’s skin. He wipes his hand clean as Tendou swiftly wraps up the stream. The stream cuts off. But when Wakatoshi lifts his hand back to his ear, Tendou is still there.

Tendou makes a gently hum and there’s shifting as he moves around and relaxes back on the bed again. Wakatoshi closes his laptop and places it on the floor. His limbs feel weak and full of pinpricks. It’s lovely and worrying. He lays back on the pillows, looking up. The lamp at his bedside sets odd shadows on the ceiling. Wakatoshi listens to Tendou catch his breath and traces the shadows with his eyes.

“I was right,” Tendou laughs. “Really fucking hot.”

Wakatoshi snorts. Tendou keeps laughing, light and carefree. It’s addicting, Wakatoshi thinks idly. Tendou sighs dreamily and falls quiet again.

“Hey,” Tendou says fondly. Warmth rolls through Wakatoshi’s chest.

“Yes?” Wakatoshi says. Tendou giggles and there’s more shuffling.

“Feels like we done this all backwards, but you uh… you wanna go out tomorrow?” Tendou asks. “Get some food? You’re… You have a break in the middle of the day, right?”

“I do,” Wakatoshi says.

“Nice,” Tendou breathes. “Great. You wanna pick a place? I don’t know too many places off campus.”

Wakatoshi pauses to think. He nods before remembering Tendou can’t see him.

“There’s a cafe near my apartment. Their pastries are good.”

“Hm~? Are they? I think I will be the judge of that.”

Wakatoshi smiles, insides distinctly warm and fuzzy.

“Of course,” he says. He glances off to the side and sees his laptop on the floor. He goes to pick it up again. “Sorry, I didn’t tip you tonight.”

“Don’t,” Tendou interrupts. Wakatoshi stops mid reach. “Don’t. It’s… weird now. If tomorrow is… if tomorrow’s a date, it’s super weird. I make enough money, don’t worry.”

Wakatoshi frowns but sits back in his spot.

“Weird how?” Wakatoshi asks. His filter disappears in the exhaustion and fuzziness floating through his body.

“Well… I—if we… it’ll be like you’re paying to date me,” Tendou says, stuttering and fumbling. He doesn’t often miss with his words. “I don’t want that.” He trails off before adding, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” Wakatoshi says. He wouldn’t be… against it per se. He never got the stigma. If Tendou wanted something more real, then Wakatoshi was more than happy to go with that. Dating proper, he thinks. He’s never done that before. He admits as much before he can double guess it. “I haven’t gone out with anyone before. I don’t really knows how this goes.”

“You haven’t?” Tendou asks. “I thought you were all popular in high school. No one asked you out.”

“Girls, mostly.”

“And y’never took them up on it?”

“I knew I was gay. False hope felt mean.”

Tendou laughs, “That’s fair.”

There’s a pause of them both breathing and listening to the other before Tendou speaks again.

“It’s alright, though. We kinda… skipped a lot of steps, but we can do it out of order,” Tendou says. Wakatoshi hums. “We can do it at your pace. No rush. Text me the address of that place, okay? When do you get out of practice.”

“11:30, give or take.”

“Noon then? Or will you be all stinky?”

“I will have my bag but I should be able to shower.”

“Good! I like ya, Ushiwaka, but ain’t nothing saving you from smelling like gym socks.”

“That’s fair.”

They linger on the line. Tendou’s breathing comes out with slight hums and notes every now and again. Wakatoshi’s exhaustion hits hard and he yawns. Tendou yawns seconds later and whines about Wakatoshi making up. Wakatoshi chuckles despite himself.

Tendou hangs up first, when there’s a clatter and shouting in the background, something about Goshiki coming back. It’s not done without a hushed goodbye and promise to see him tomorrow. Wakatoshi returns it. He hears Tendou grinning when he says goodbye again and the line goes dead. Wakatoshi plugs in his phone charger and settles down into his sheets. His phone buzzes before he can put it away.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: sweet dreams, sweetheart

Wakatoshi’s cheeks hurt from smiling.

> ME: You, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of my favorite writing things is
> 
> "a says: b, do this  
> b does that"
> 
> two ramble notes:  
> 1\. I FORGOT USHITEN WEEK and im a lil angy but props to y'all contributing  
> 2\. i'm getting attention on some of my old shit from my other acc so like,,,, damn how deep y'all digging in quarantine??


	9. tired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some sorta smut in the back half, but mostly just talking
> 
> gonna wrap this up in a few chapters i think
> 
> it's been a ride, y'all

Wakatoshi had never actually sat at a table in the cafe. He worried there wouldn’t be any empty ones. When he stopped in to pick up his lunches, there was usually no space. He hurries through the locker room, trying to keep it as subtle as possible to avoid questioning. He wanted to be there before Tendou, in case there weren’t free tables. He wasn’t sure what he would do if all the tables were taken. He just felt like he had to be there first. Unfamiliar nerves have Wakatoshi picking at the strap of his sports bag as he makes his way to the cafe.

There are quite a few people inside, but it’s not filled yet. Wakatoshi sighs in relief. He habitually picks his order up at the counter. The host is all soft smiles and pleasantries. Wakatoshi barely registers it as he turns to the seating area.

He picks a table far from the entrance. It’s one of several spaced out to make use of a bench spanning the wall. He picks one in a corner. That way he only had to worry about one neighboring table. He’s several minutes early and he has no idea what he was supposed to do.

Did he start eating? Did he try to have Tendou’s order ready? He didn’t know Tendou’s order, only that he liked coffee. He didn’t even know how Tendou liked his coffee. Should he just wait? He decides that’s his best option.

Wakatoshi sits on the bench side of the table, placing his bag on the floor instead. He sips his drink and lets the warmth of it calm his nerves. He resists the urge to glance at every person entering and leaving the cafe. He keeps his eyes on the table in front of him and waits.

What if Tendou didn’t show? What if he texted Wakatoshi that he regretted all of it? What if he did show, but told Wakatoshi he changed his mind?

Fear of rejection is not something Wakatoshi is familiar with, as conceited as it sounds. He stayed in his lane and only did things he was confident in. It was an easy confidence, one that comes from being naturally gifted and often praised. It was a reassurance until it wasn’t. Wakatoshi is suddenly aware that things are out of his control. He had similar feelings—of cotton in his head and weight in his stomach—in academic classes. The feeling he truly didn’t know how to do something and the terror that came with not being able to learn.

Wakatoshi sips his drink and glances at the analog clock hanging near the counter. A few minutes after twelve. He hesitantly watches out the large bay windows to his right. People move by, some come in, others go out to join the flood of people at lunch rush. Wakatoshi zones out looking at the people go by, heads ducked and going about their business. He misses Tendou peering through the window before stepping inside.

But then Tendou is there, a few feet in front of him, hands on the back of the chair opposite the bench. He’s wearing the large brown coat he did when they went out with Pochi. Underneath, he’s wearing the old volleyball hoodie and skinny jeans. His hair is slicked up. His smile is small and hesitant.

“Hey,” Tendou says. He glances to a group of teens that make of burst of noise and then turns his eyes down at his hands. “You already got food? Sorry I’m late.”

“I come here a lot,” Wakatoshi says. He shakes his head. “They have my order ready some times.”

Tendou hums. He drums his fingers on the backrest of the chair, bouncing one of his legs and avoiding eye contact. Abruptly, he lifts his hands and jams them in his pockets.

“I’m… gonna go order,” he mutters. Wakatoshi nods.

Tendou is stiff all the way up to the counter. Wakatoshi watches as he waits in the line for his turn. Wakatoshi unwraps his pastry and takes a bite. It has cooled down while he was sitting. It doesn’t matter. Tendou showed up and didn’t seem disgusted.

They were going to talk things over. They were going to start… dating. Dating proper. It was so harshly unfamiliar but exciting. He likes Tendou, he knows it with an air of certainty.

Tendou comes back to the table with a big coffee. He sits in the chair and pauses before he puts his cup down on the table. He avoids eye contact, sipping at his coffee and slouching in his seat.

Should Wakatoshi start the conversation? He should.

“How was your morning?” he asks. It was a pathetic excuse of a starter, he thinks bitterly and hopes it doesn’t show on his face.

Tendou peeks up at him. There’s a terrible silence before Tendou huffs a laugh.

“Sleepy,” Tendou says, smiling soft and warm. He meets Wakatoshi’s eyes and it’s all so real. He lifts his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “I had to rush out to get here on time, and I was still late. I snored through two alarms before Tsutomu woke me up.”

“Did… Did I keep you up?” Wakatoshi asks. He doesn’t want to assume, but it’s all his brain can put together.

“No more than usual. It was just… a lot, y’know?”

“Mm.” He did know.

Tendou poorly stifles a yawn and rubs at one of his eyes. They sip their drinks in a slightly more comfortable silence. Wakatoshi doesn’t know what people talk about on dates. He finishes his pastry and tugs at his fingers nervously. Tendou hums to himself while sipping his drink, blinking slowly and seeming to wake up more as time passes.

“Is there,” Wakatoshi says. He has no idea what he’s about to say, but Tendou is looking up at him. Wakatoshi huffs. “Is there something we’re supposed to… do? On a date.”

Tendou snorts but it’s not cruel. He laughs into his hand and shakes his head. When it passes, he shrugs his shoulders.

“No idea, honestly!” Tendou says. He scoots forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table top. “I was hoping that I’d have it figured out when I got here, but nope.”

“Have you done it before?”

“Technically?” Tendou talks with the hand not holding his coffee, gesturing at the air. “One girlfriend in middle school but it was a joke. And high school was… just a big fucking mess.”

“It was.”

Tendou perks up some, leaning forward more, ducking his head so he’s looking up at Wakatoshi’s eyes. His neutral smile is in place and it’s comforting.

“Yeah, but you had the dudes falling left and right for you!” Tendou teases. Wakatoshi smiles despite the ever present nerves, shaking his head.

“I hardly think that counted,” Wakatoshi says.

“I’m still surprised none of them ever took their shot.” Tendou tilts his head to the side, looking up at some indefinite thing on the ceiling. He puts his coffee down so he can use both hands while he speaks. “Especially your team. I would have thought for sure someone would have made a move on their famous captain.”

Wakatoshi laughs quietly.

“I think they were scared of me,” he says honestly.

“You’re too nice to be scary.”

Wakatoshi blushes and shrugs. Tendou grins. It’s warm and familiar.

Tendou texts Wakatoshi everyday the following week. He’s caught up in exams during the day time, but at night he texts non stop. It keeps Wakatoshi up an hour or two later. It’s not an inconvenience or anything. Wakatoshi does enjoy it, and hopes only that he’s helping relieve some of Tendou’s stress.

An announcement goes up on the cam site that says Tendou wouldn’t be streaming that week. Wakatoshi doesn’t bring it up in their conversations and Tendou doesn’t mention it. Tendou starts calling him by his first name.

Tendou ropes him into watching some of the bad late night television. Wakatoshi falls asleep on the couch during an episode, with Pochi on his stomach. When he wakes up, it’s to Pochi nosing at his face for food. The call ended hours ago and there’s a message from Tendou telling him to sleep well with a flurry of heart emojis. Tendou used heart emojis a lot when speaking with Wakatoshi. Wakatoshi has yet to get used to the fondness it sends through him.

On Friday, Tendou is the one to fall asleep while they’re watching one of the late night shows. It’s barely half an hour after Tendou’s show would have started when Tendou starts snoring. Wakatoshi hangs up and sends him a goodnight text. In the morning, Tendou drowns his notifications with hearts.

On Saturday, Wakatoshi gets back late from evening practice. Pochi takes a nap in the far corner of the living room as Wakatoshi walks to the bedroom. He puts his things away and yawns. The late nights with Tendou haven’t affected his volleyball playing at all. He’s just been yawning more. His muscles are sore from the last few days of practice. He idly stretches his arms and shoulders out while walking into the bathroom. He finds the drain plug untouched for months in the back of the cabinet.

Wakatoshi’s phone chimes as he starts a bath. He gets a good temperature before putting the plug in place and going to get his phone. Unsurprisingly, it’s Tendou.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: and the evil exams are defeated!!
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: I’M A FREE MANNNN

Wakatoshi smiles to himself and returns to stand in the bathroom while the tub fills up. He closes and locks the door to prevent any dog interruptions.

> ME: Congratulations.
> 
> ME: Are you done for the semester now?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: that i am >:D
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: now that we have time
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: i’m gonna date the fuck out of you.
> 
> ME: Oh? What does that entail?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: it’s a working definition but
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: first, we’re going to the movies
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: and at some point i’m baking for you
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: and of course, we’re taking Pochi out to a real dog park

Wakatoshi chuckles. Tendou sends a few more parts of his plan. Wakatoshi places the phone down on the counter for a moment while he strips out off his hoodie.

> TENDOU SATORI😈: and you’re coming to my dorm so I can rub you in tsutomu’s face
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: does your apartment have a kitchen?
> 
> ME: It does.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: would it be too much to invite myself over to use it? not tonight but yknow
> 
> ME: I don’t think so, no.
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: hell yes
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: wanna video call tonight?
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: wanna see ur face
> 
> TENDOU SATORI😈: if that’s okay
> 
> ME: Sure.

The ringing is obnoxious. Wakatoshi winces and turns the volume down a few ticks before he picks up. Tendou’s image starts as pixels before it comes into focus. Wakatoshi sees from his preview in the bottom corner that Tendou is getting an unpleasant view of his chin. Wakatoshi props his phone up on the sink in front of him, resting against the soap bottle. He yawns again and rubs at one of his eyes.

Tendou gasps suddenly. It makes Wakatoshi jump.

“Wakatoshi!” Tendou says. He places a hand to his chest. “Already naked? How scandalous!”

Wakatoshi chuckles as Tendou dramatically rolls out of view. Tendou is laid on his bed. Wakatoshi recognizes the sheets under him. Wakatoshi looks into his sink for a few seconds as the bath continues to fill.

Did he want to go the route of full self care? He did, he decides. He doesn’t have the chance to do it often.

He brushes his teeth, glancing at Tendou when the redhead moves back on screen. Tendou puts his chin in his hands and waits until Wakatoshi rinses his mouth to speak. Tendou’s hair is down, curling around his face and ears.

“Are you going to bed, already?” Tendou asks.

“Bath,” Wakatoshi grumbles, pointing off to his left. The steam billows out from the hot water. He steps over to stop the water flow.

“Oh am I interrupting?” Tendou asks. Wakatoshi shakes his head before remembering Tendou can’t see him near the tub.

“No,” Wakatoshi says. He moves his phone so Tendou has a view of him now. Tendou tilts his head to the side. Wakatoshi brushes his hair out of his face and turns back to the tub. He stirs the water briefly. His head feels heavy and fogged up. “Just sore from practice.”

Wakatoshi stands up and starts to slide his sweatpants off his hips. Tendou makes a distressed noise that had Wakatoshi jumping again and whipping around. Tendou has his face in his hands.

“Are you alright?” Wakatoshi asks.

“Fine,” Tendou says. It’s forced. Wakatoshi frowns. “Just… warn a guy, Wakatoshi!”

“Of what?”

Tendou peeks one eye out between his fingers, makes another whining noise, and closes the finger window. Wakatoshi frowns and pushes his sweatpants down the rest of the way. He fumbles while kicking them off his feet.

“Warn me when you’re just gonna start stripping!” Tendou says indignantly. His face is flushed bright red. He hides his nose and mouth with his hands but keeps his eyes on Wakatoshi. The flush reaches his ears and there’s a crease between his eyebrows.

“I was already taking my clothes off,” Wakatoshi says. Another strained noise from Tendou. Wakatoshi doesn’t get it. “What?” Tendou is quiet. Wakatoshi sighs. “If this bothers you, I can hang up.”

“No! It—no, it doesn’t,” Tendou says. He takes a deep breath and sighs it out. “It does not bother me.”

Wakatoshi yawns again and gets as far as hooking his thumbs in the band of his underwear. Tendou whines again. Wakatoshi stops and glances at the screen. Tendou is doing a poor job of pretending to look away, face ducked but eyes still staring up at the camera.

“Something _is_ wrong,” Wakatoshi says. Tendou shakes his head frantically. Wakatoshi scrunches his face up. He just wants to take a bath and then sleep until he felt better.

Tendou makes a pained expression and moves his hands from his face. He bites at his bottom lip and gestures vaguely.

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” Tendou manages to ask.

“...You masturbate for people online.”

“It’s different!”

Wakatoshi gives Tendou a look. Tendou has the sense to bury his face in his hands again. Wakatoshi slides his boxers off nonchalantly and climbs into the bath. He lets out a bone deep sigh, sinking into the water. He sinks deeper, bending his knees up so he can get the water up to his nose. Yeah, that was the good shit. Wakatoshi dunks his head briefly and when he sits back up, he glances over at the phone.

Tendou stares unabashedly, smiling with an edge of nerves when he notices Wakatoshi staring back. Wakatoshi slides down until he can tilt his head back against the edge of the tub. His legs are bunched up awkwardly but nothing he can’t ignore. He stretches his arms up and over his head. He hangs one over the side of the tub, the other falling to push his wet hair back.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re really pretty?” Tendou asks. Wakatoshi rolls his head to look at the phone. He raises his eyebrows. His head is fogged up in the softest way and he’s relaxed down to his toes.

“No.”

“Handsome, then?”

“Only old women.”

Tendou giggles. “Please don’t mention old ladies when you’re naked,” he says. He presses his palms together in a pleading motion. “I don’t need the conflicting images.”

Wakatoshi frowns. “Images?”

“I don’t wanna imagine grandmas when I’m looking at you soaking wet!” Tendou snaps. He drags his hands over his face with a groan. “How are you not--!?”

“So this is bothering you?”

“No! That’s not what I mean! You-- How are you this unaware of yourself?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Tendou points at his phone accusingly. “You—You’re too hot for your own good!” Wakatoshi furrows his brow and frowns. “Don’t pull that look! There’s a fucking reason half of Japan wants in your pants! Here I was, prepped for a peaceful conversation with a sleepy Wakatoshi and instead I get a naked one taking a bath on call with me!” Tendou takes a deep breath before adding, “Not that I’m not complaining.”

“Is this not peaceful?” Wakatoshi asks.

Tendou opens his mouth, and closes it. Does it again.

“It is, but I’m… I’m a bit distracted, okay? You’re distracting, sweetheart.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Tendou laughs, soft and gentle. He shakes his head and waves off Wakatoshi’s apology. He picks up his phone and moves how he’s laying down. When the camera stills again, Tendou is on his side, cheek pressed to a pillow and phone balanced on something in front of him.

“Don’t be,” Tendou says. He grins and Wakatoshi recognizes his expression from the streams. “Like I said, I’m not complaining.”

Tendou pulls his shirt off and lays himself out in a way that—if Wakatoshi were more in his own head—he would call alluring. Tendou’s flush is still going strong, reaching down his chest. Wakatoshi thinks it’s lovely. But there’s no stirring between his legs. It must show on his face.

“Something wrong?” Tendou asks. Wakatoshi’s face scrunches again. He slumps further into the water, barely keeping his mouth over the water line.

“I won’t get off,” Wakatoshi says plainly. “I thought I would warn you… If that’s the way this is going.” Tendou nods slowly and scoots down some, embarrassed, and pushing hair out of his face. “If you want to, feel free, but I won’t be much help.”

Tendou breathes, “Oh you’re plenty of help, sweetheart.”

He averts his eyes when Wakatoshi looks at him through the screen.

“You really don’t mind?” Tendou asks hesitantly. “Like really, really don’t mind.”

Wakatoshi shakes his head.

Tendou sighs. “Okay, just tell me to stop if you want,” Tendou says before he ducks out of sight.

There’s a clatter that Wakatoshi ignores in favor of putting shampoo in his hair. Unscented, or the most mute scent he could find. A pain to get but worth it so he doesn’t cringe every time he accidentally smells his own hair. He scratches over his scalp, humming quietly at the sensation. He washes it out with the shower head.

Tendou reappears. He lays down on his back, leaning against the pillows. The screen shows him from the side, head down to his ribs. Wakatoshi idly watches as Tendou lubes his hand and reaches out of frame. Tendou sighs deeply, closing his eyes. The flush spreads further down his chest. His free hand lays across his pec, scratching lightly at his skin. He looks back to his phone with a guilty smile.

Wakatoshi closes his eyes and shifts. He tries to stretch his legs out. One ends up hanging over the edge of the bath and the other extended against the shower wall.

It’s quiet and calm.

There’s the sound of his own breathing and the slick noises coming from Tendou.

Wakaoshi zones out hard for a few minutes. When he brings himself back, he cracks his spine in a stretch and looks over to check on Tendou.

Tendou’s breath hitches from it’s already uneven pace. He grins and wriggles the fingers of his free hand in a wave. Wakatoshi sees his other shoulder moving slightly. Wakatoshi puts his elbow up on the tub edge and puts his chin in his hand. Tendou shyly covers the bottom half of his face. His upper back arcs and he gasps sharply. Wakatoshi’s feels the heat on his face but it doesn’t spread further.

Wakatoshi pushes himself to be sitting and a yawn forces its way out. He was going to sleep like a rock, he thinks, pleased. Tendou whines and the slick noises speed up. Wakatoshi unplugs the drain.

“Hey, hey,” Tendou says hurriedly. Wakatoshi lifts his head as he goes to stand. “Can-- Can you turn around for me?”

Wakatoshi does as asked without thinking much about it. He stands up and turns so his back is facing the phone. He stretches his arms over his head and rolls his shoulders back. Tendou groans. His voice catches and cracks before the sounds stop. Wakatoshi glances over his shoulder. Tendou slumps against the pillows. Wakatoshi steps out of the bath and out of view as he goes to get a towel.

When the towel is wrapped around his waist, he moves the phone to it’s first place. He sets about drying his hair, letting the lingering warmth from the water

“Feeling better?” Tendou asks. “You seemed off earlier.”

“Tired,” Wakatoshi mutters. He frowns when nerves prickle from the corner of his quiet mind. “Sorry I couldn’t...” He trails off and squints at his reflection in the mirror.

“Don’t worry, Wakatoshi,” Tendou says. “Nothing to worry about. Sometimes you’re just not feeling it.”

Wakatoshi shrugs.

Someone shouts from another room. It makes both Wakatoshi and Tendou jolt. Tendou quickly slouches back and shakes his head. He sits up and grabs tissues from his end table.

“That’s Tsutomu and the neighbors,” he says. “They’re just having a little fight.

“What happened?”

“They’ve been having obnoxious sex since Friday night. And the walls aren’t thin but they aren’t that thick either.”

“Oh.” Wakatoshi knows he’s flushed again just from thinking about it, imagining the noises that would come through the wall.

“If you do ever end up in dorms,” Tendou says sagely. “Invest in noise-cancelling headphones.” There’s more shouting and a clatter. “Ignore them… Question for you, though.” Tendou rolls onto his side facing his phone. “Is sex on the table?”

Wakatoshi nods without hesitation. But then the nerves are back at the corner of his mind. “I’ve never had sex,” Wakatoshi admits. His exhaustion loosens any filter he might have. Tendou’s eyebrows reach his hairline. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Mhmm!” Tendou says immediately. It’s high pitched and strained while his face flushes again. He bites his bottom lip and rolls onto his back. He takes a measured breath before continuing. “It’s fine, don’t worry. Only caught me off guard.”

“… Have you?”

“I have. One girl, but dudes otherwise.”

“Mn.”

“Y’ don’t have to be embarrassed, Waka. It’s just sex. It’s not as big of a deal as everyone makes it out to be.” Tendou pushes his hair out of his face. He smirks maliciously. “I think it’d be fun to do it in my dorm though. Drown out the neighbors, hm?”

Wakatoshi hides his face in his hand and Tendou cackles.


	10. shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoo, still alive. took awhile because yknow gestures vaguely to everything
> 
> smut at the end, finally in person

A week in, Wakatoshi can say with certainty he enjoys his dates with Tendou. He meets Tendou for lunch after practice each day. His hair is usually still wet from the showers and he has his bag of gym clothes. For Tendou, most of their lunches are technically his breakfasts before he heads off to class. Wakatoshi walks him back to campus from wherever they had been eating.

Some times, Tendou links their hands and swings them as the two of them move down the sidewalk. Others, Tendou hooks his elbow with Wakatoshi’s and leans into him.

Every time, though, at the gate, Tendou stops them just out of the way of the people coming and going. Tendou wraps his arms around Wakatoshi’s shoulders.  Wakatoshi wraps his own around his waist. Some times, they kiss—gentle and soft, with only fondness and affection. Others, Wakatoshi buries his face in the junction of Tendou’s neck and shoulder—taking up the warmth that Tendou gives off and savoring the contact. Tendou giggles and rubs his fingers over the shaved back of Wakatoshi’s head.

W akatoshi told him the first time around that this was his first real kiss, red faced and scared of Tendou’s response. Tendou blushed, too, cupped Wakatoshi’s face and pulled him into a deeper kiss. It was the steamiest one they had, Wakatoshi remembers fondly the warmth and cotton in his head. The bell rang and Tendou had to run to class. Wakatoshi went home floating on a cloud.

They text at night. Tendou tells him about classes and gets Wakatoshi to talk about his teammates and upcoming games.

It’s all a welcome addition to the pattern Wakatoshi has. He loves the feeling it puts in his head and in his bones. He feels a little drunk on it. He hopes it doesn’t show as much as he feels it. 

Evening practice on Friday wraps up without fanfare, but it does end with a downpour. They hear the thunderclaps outside while they scrimmage. Bokuto startles so hard he slips. Hinata and Atsumu screech like distressed cats.  Sakusa lords the fact he packed an umbrella over everyone. 

Wakatoshi goes home right away. The rain only gets worse as he gets closer to his apartment. He’s soaked through his coat when he stumbles in through the door.

Pochi doesn’t even greet him. She looks at him from the living room, huffs, and trots off to her bed. Wakatoshi can’t say he blames her.

Wakatoshi hangs his coat in the entrance. He smells like rain and sweat. It’s an unpleasant mix.  He grimaces and shuffles to the bathroom.  He gets as far as his shirt when h is phone goes off loudly  from the other room . Pochi looks up briefly  when he enters . She turns herself around and lays down again. 

“Hello?” Wakatoshi answers.

“Wakatoshi!” Tendou chimes from the other line. He laughs nervously and Wakatoshi can hear the storm continue outside his building. Another clap of thunder. He hears it echoed on Tendou’s side of the call. “Crazy storm, huh?”

Wakatoshi hums and looks out the window. His eyes fall on the clock above his television.

“Shouldn’t you be readying to stream now?” he asks.

“Yeah! Usually. But uh… I’m downtown right now,” Tendou says. “Had to pick something… doesn’t matter. Point is, no umbrella, and neighbors were already going at it when I left. I don’t want to hear an encore. Can I come spend the night?”

Wakatoshi doesn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he says. “ I’ll text you my address. Text when you’re here, I’ll let you in.”

“Thanks so much,” Tendou breathes. Wakatoshi quickly sends the text. He watches the marker come up to say Tendou read it. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Tendou sing songs a goodbye and hangs up the phone. Wakatoshi can’t start his shower with that short a time frame. He stands watching the television while he waits. Pochi snoozes peacefully. Wakatoshi hopes she stays asleep for Tendou arriving. He loves her, he does, but he’s damp,  smelly,  and uncomfortable in his  practice  clothes.  He can’t deal with hyper happy met-a-new-person dog. 

Wakatoshi buzzes Tendou in when his phone chimes again. It’s another minute or so to hike up the stairs. He grabs towels from the bathroom before Tendou knocks.

Tendou is soaked, with only a cloth coat to cover him. His hair hangs wet around his jaw and neck. His clothes drip onto the floor. The fabric of his shoes are visibly wet. He’s shivering. It makes the black bag in his hand shake, gently clattering whatever is inside. His grin is crooked and guilty as he steps into the apartment. He mutters a pardon and toes his shoes off next to Wakatoshi’s. Even his socks are wet, Wakatoshi grimaces when he glances down.

“I owe you,” Tendou sighs. “I’m really sorry to drop this on you.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing,” Wakatoshi says. He takes Tendou’s coat and puts it on a hook. He hands over the towel and Tendou starts trying to dry his hair. “I would just tell you no.”

Tendou chuckles, “I forget you’re like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nice and straight-forward.” Tendou peeks at him from under the towel. He reaches out and pokes Wakatoshi’s cheek. “It’s a good thing, stop that. You look constipated.”

It startles a snort out of Wakatoshi that make Tendou giggle.

“I can get you dry clothes, if you want to shower,” Wakatoshi says when they’ve settled

“Are you still in your clothes from practice?” Tendou asks.

“Mn.”

“Have you showered yet?”

“No.”

Tendou tugs the towel down around his neck.  He looks further into the apartment before grinning up at Wakatoshi. He leans into Wakatoshi’s space, sly and sharp edges. 

“Wanna take it with me?” Tendou asks.

Wakatoshi is lovingly supplied with the mental image of Tendou in the shower from his stream. There’s heat in his cheeks and he is sure that shows when Tendou’s grin widens. 

“The shower isn’t that big,” Wakatoshi says. It’s weak.

“I’ve seen your bath.”

Shit. He has.

“Ah.”

“Is it because you don’t want to or are you just nervous?”

W akatoshi tugs at the hem of his shirt. “Nervous.”

“We can just shower,” Tendou offers seriously. “Or you can shower and I can wait. Or other way around.”

He likes the image of Tendou in the shower. He’s unsure if he likes it with himself in the picture. But he likes Tendou in it. Likes the idea of being with Tendou naked. Likes the imagined feeling of skin on skin. Likes the smile on Tendou’s face when he brought up the idea.

“You don’t mind if I join you?” Wakatoshi asks.

“Nope.” Tendou pops the _p_. He ruffles Wakatoshi’s hair with the hand still on his face. He loops his arm with Wakatoshi’s. “Lead the way.”

Wakatoshi leaves Tendou in the bathroom to grab clothes for after.

When he returns, Tendou has the shower running and his clothes in the basket with Wakatoshi’s, left in plain gray underwear. Wakatoshi lingers in the door until Tendou looks over his shoulder. He smiles and it’s bright and stalls Wakatoshi’s worries for a moment. Wakatoshi loves the feeling.

“Your water pressure is fucking amazing,” Tendou says.

Wakatoshi  smiles and nods. He puts the clothes on the counter space next to the sink. He grabs two new towels and puts them on the other side of the sink, close to the shower. Tendou hums while he fiddles with the water controls.

Wakatoshi hesitates again. He’s seen Tendou naked. Tendou has not seen him naked. The fact is something he is suddenly very aware of. Something he’s nervous about. He’s never… measured anything. Could balls be ugly? No, he would argue that all balls are a little ugly but what if--

“I volunteered for a shower, not a shit,” Tendou interrupts his thoughts. Wakatoshi blinks at him. Tendou smiles gently. “You look constipated again.”

“I’m not.”

“Then stop looking like that.”

Wakatoshi frowns. Tendou giggles  and turns to face him. He slides his hands onto his hips and thumbs and the band of his underwear. Wakatoshi stops frowning and his eyebrows shoot up. Tendou snorts as he stretches the band out, then lets it go so it snaps on his skin. Wakatoshi jolts. It makes Tendou cackle. Wakatoshi flushes and pointedly looks to the sink. 

The curtain rings clatter along the rod. Tendou hums a song from the radio. Wakatoshi hears his underwear land in the basket, then the curtain close behind him. Tendou lets out an exaggerated soothed sigh. It’s suddenly very real.

He would not get weird about this. He would not get horny unless Tendou started it. He could do this.

Wakatoshi slides his pants and underwear off, grimacing at the cold dampness still clinging it to him. Fuck horny, he just wanted to be warm.  He steps into the shower behind Tendou basking under the water stream. He keeps his hands by his side. 

Tendou perks up and turns his head to look over his shoulder. He smiles soft, all gentle edges to match the curls his hair makes around his face. Wakatoshi thinks he’s pretty like this. Tendou reaches and brushes his hand along Wakatoshi’s forearm. He takes Wakatoshi’s hand, placing it on his hip. Wakatoshi freezes, but Tendou keeps the soft smile and runs his thumb over Wakatoshi’s knuckles.

Was this “starting it?” Tendou’s skin is soft under the calluses on his palm. Flushed under the warmth of the water. Stretch marks trace along his hip, leading around towards his stomach and thighs. Wakatoshi’s fingers go to follow one but he stops himself. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t want to start anything that he couldn’t follow through. He didn’t know what he was willing to do. They haven’t done much in the way of in person intimacy. He bites the inside of his cheek and struggles to find words.

“You’re good,” Tendou says quietly. Tendou’s other hand lands on Wakatoshi’s shoulder, moving up the column of his neck to cup his jaw.

Wakatoshi leans in when Tendou nudges him. Their foreheads press against each other and Tendou stretches his arms over Wakatoshi’s shoulders. Wakatoshi moves his hand slowly, mapping one of the stretchmarks, following the different texture, towards Tendou’s stomach. Tendou wriggles his hips with a ridiculous expression that makes Wakatoshi smile against his will.

Tendou tilts his head closer and presses his lips to the corner of Wakatoshi’s mouth. Wakatoshi follows his lead and presses their mouths together. He tastes like peppermint and Wakatoshi can only hope his breath doesn’t smell like shit. Tendou’s arms bend around Wakatoshi’s head, toying with his hair. He tilts his head and slides them closer together. Soft and warm and just on the right side of things. The right side of things that puts the warmth in Wakatoshi’s chest and cotton in his head.

Fuck, he loves this feeling. Wakatoshi lets both his hands slide across Tendou’s waist. He traces the marks on his stomach fondly and follows the curve to Tendou’s back. His pinky finger brushes down against the edge of Tendou’s butt. Wakatoshi freezes again and Tendou pulls back only a few inches.

“You’re good, sweetheart,” Tendou breathes. There’s a sharper edge to his smile, but it’s muffled by the fondness in his eyes that even Wakatoshi can make out. Tendou leans in again and uses one hand to move Wakatoshi’s hand further down.

Alarm bells go off in Wakatoshi’s head. This is entirely uncharted territory. Under the stream of the water, Tendou’s skin is perfect. Wakatoshi’s hand clenches nervously and gets a handful of asscheek. He flinches and goes to pull back again, but Tendou gives a quiet happy noise and Wakatoshi stops in his tracks. It’s quieter than those from the streams. Wakatoshi scolds himself for thinking about that here. But now his brain is playing on repeat…

“Cup and a half,” Wakatoshi mutters before he can filter it. Tendou hums curiously. Wakatoshi gently squeezes his hand again. “Cup and a half of ass.”

Tendou pauses before he breaks out cackling, strained and broken  around the edges. He snorts and puts his face on Wakatoshi’s shoulder to muffle it as his shoulders shake. Wakatoshi bites his lip against his own smile. He hooks his chin over Tendou’s shoulder and looks down Tendou’s back. There are some freckles along his  back and a mole near the dimples at  the base of his spine.

Reassured and more relaxed, Wakatoshi moves both hands down and rubs his palms over the soft skin. Tendou presses back into it.

“Why the hell do you remember that?” Tendou asks, incredulous.

“Mn.”

Tendou giggles and presses their lips back together. A push and pull that Wakatoshi takes a while to get used to. Tendou only smiles into it and draws nonsense patterns on his shoulders and upper back. Repetitive and meditative.

Wakatoshi bends his knees for a better grip as he slides his hands further down to the back of Tendou’s thighs. Tendou squeaks when Wakatoshi spreads his fingers to try and circle his thigh. The muscle is firm under his hand, tensing as Tendou shifts at the touch. Tendou sighs against Wakatoshi’s cheek, grinning deliriously with a flush on his face.  Wakatoshi takes in his expression from his ducked position. Tendou shifts and Wakatoshi feels his hardness brush against his stomach. Wakatoshi blinks and Tendou glanced away.

“You uh… You got shampoo?” Tendou asks, leaning away. Wakatoshi takes the cue to step back and grabs his bottle from the edge of the tub. Tendou takes it and glances it over. His face falls immediately. “Wakkun, what the fuck?”

“What?”

Tendou grimaces and holds the label up to Wakatoshi.  He hisses, “Three in one?”

“Yes?” Wakatoshi frowns. Tendou’s mouth falls open briefly before he shakes his head. He shifts back, not very far in the small shower.

“Remind me to give you some decent product,” Tendou says.

“...Okay?”

Tendou looks pained as he puts a dollop of the shampoo into his palm. Wakatoshi leans against the back wall of the shower as Tendou begins to work it through his hair.  Wakatoshi tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He likes this.

Wakatoshi’s clothes don’t dwarf Tendou  when they get out of the shower . T endou is plenty  tall in his own right.  But Wakatoshi’s clothes are stretched out in the arms and shoulders. The necklines are wide even on Wakatoshi from how long he’s had it. The jut of Tendou’s collarbones are sharp and pretty and Wakatoshi likes the look. 

T hey eat microwaved meals on the couch with Pochi begging for scraps despite her bowl still being half full. Tendou indulges her shamelessly and welcomes her into his lap when she hops up. Wakatoshi watches fondly while he picks at his lukewarm-in-the-middle noodles. The TV plays quietly in the background, turned to the local news channel. When the food runs out, Pochi leaves them for her bed and Tendou scoots closer to Wakatoshi. He rests his body against Wakatoshi’s side, going as far as to lift Wakatoshi’s arm around his shoulders. 

Wakatoshi closes his eyes and zones out as Tendou taps away on his phone. He expected the first night either of them spent at the other’s place to be more… scandalous. Shower aside, this all seemed standard. He tilts his head to rest it against Tendou. The redhead hums and shifts so they’re more comfortable.

Tendou slowly but surely slides his hand under Wakatoshi’s shirt as they sit, palm pressed to his skin. Wakatoshi makes no move of protest, especially when Tendou tugs his further down the couch so he can lay on top of Wakatoshi. Tendou rests his chin on Wakatoshi’s chest with a self satisfied grin.  He hums happily when Wakatoshi kisses him again, slow and savory. He hikes Wakatoshi’s shirt up further as he props himself up and deepens the kiss.

Tendou’s tongue traces along the crease of Wakatoshi’s mouth. Wakatoshi opens his mouth in surprise and Tendou presses closer. Wakatoshi falters under the new element, but Tendou slows and waits for Wakatoshi to tilt his head into it again. Wakatoshi’s hands fall on Tendou’s waist and hip, spreading his hand for as much coverage as possible. It burns hot and Wakatoshi never wants to feel anything else.

Wakatoshi drops his hand to Tendou’s ass and pulls the redhead closer. He can feel Tendou’s grin against his mouth and feels the exhale when Tendou’ s erection presses into his thigh. Tendou tries to pull away again. 

Wakatoshi tightens his grip and drags him higher up over his body. Tendou moans weakly and a breathless chuckle falls out of him. His hips hitch, grinding on Wakatoshi gently. He pulls away for a breath, grinning deliriously. Tendou presses a leg between Wakatoshi’s own. Wakatoshi hisses, squinting his eyes shut. Oh god, he’s fully hard. Flush spreads down his face and chest as Tendou grins. 

“Can I?” Tendou asks, nudging his leg closer. Wakatoshi whines sharply. Tendou’s eyes widen and he bites his lip. “Fuck, let me get you off. Please?”

Wakatoshi took a few careful breaths. Tendou’s face was ruddy with flush, eyes hazy,  frame practically twitching with excitement. Wakatoshi nods frantically. 

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Tendou whispers seconds before smashing his lips back against Wakatoshi’s. 

Tendou palms the bulge in his sweatpants. Wakatoshi gasps and pushes into it. It’s so much more at the hands of someone else. Wakatoshi  wraps his arms around Tendou’s waist, groaning shakily. Tendou strokes him through his pants. He follows the shape to the tip, pressing against it through the fabric. Shocks wreak through Wakatoshi. His breath catches and his hips move on their own. Tendou moans, moving his mouth down to Wakatoshi’s jaw and neck. His hand moves away briefly—Wakatoshi whines—before sliding down the front of his sweatpants. 

“I gotcha,” Tendou murmurs. 

Wakatoshi can’t stop the noise that punches out of him, weak and desperate. Tendou thrusts against Wakatoshi’s thigh.

“You sound amazing,” Tendou breathes. “So fucking good.”

The praise goes right through him. Tendou strokes him loosely. Skin on skin is intoxicating and Wakatoshi muffles his sounds against his arm. Tendou giggles. On the downstroke, Tendou grips tighter and grins, all sharp  and dangerous. Wakatoshi is way too fucking close for a handjob. Tendou smiles wider and knocks their foreheads together gently. His hand moves faster. Wakatoshi thrusts into it helplessly with abandon. He moves his arm in hopes that Tendou would kiss him again. He leans his head closer, but Tendou pulls back.

“Please,” Wakatoshi says. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. He’d take anything Tendou would give him.

“Mmh?” Tendou hums. There’s no pause in his hand. 

“Shit--” Wakatoshi’s breath hitches and he tries to move his hips away. 

Tendou bites his own lip, hard, mouth curling in an evil way. He follows with his hand, moving faster still. Wakatoshi clenches his eyes shut as the waves rock through him. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” Tendou pants. Wakatoshi can’t open his eyes to look at him. He feels Tendou’s breath against his cheek. “Wanna see you cum. Really, really do. C’mon, babe. C’mon.”

Embarrassment burns through Wakatoshi when his hips stall and he hurdles to the peak. He thrusts unevenly and desperately and spills over Tendou’s knuckles. He groans into his hand, eyes rolling back behind his eyelids.  Tendou strokes him through it, pressing soft kisses to his neck and shoulder. 

Wakatoshi comes back to himself and to Tendou humping him like an animal. Tendou pants desperate and uneven against Wakatoshi’s collar while his hips moved frantically. Tendou moans quiet and the movement falters. Some of the dampness seeps through the fabric. Tendou lifts his head immediately and presses sloppy kisses across Wakatoshi’s cheeks.

It’s a struggle for both of them to get up from the couch. Tendou manages, grumbling about how he refused to fall asleep in his own cum again. He drags Wakatoshi up when the latter refuses to move. They clean in the bathroom and Wakatoshi digs out new pants for both of them. When he turns, Tendou is laying on his bed like those classical paintings. Wakatoshi puts the clothes on the bed and crawls to kiss him, basking in the glow of Tendou’s smile as he moves in.


End file.
